A Step Too Far
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: How do you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart? A sequel to Only Us. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- hey everyone! After _long_ debates whether or not I should do this, I'm proud to present the sequel to Only Us! I'll confess, I don't like sequels so much because they always tend to be "less," but then I got this idea, and I thought I'd give it a shot. Well, I won't say anything about the story itself so I won't give anything away. You'd better know the first story in order to get this one, because it picks up right where Only Us left off. You know the drill, alternating POV's and all… I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. You know how reviews make my day, right?**

**Disclaimer- Mark, Maureen and any other character you recognize from Rent are the property of the late, great Jonathan Larson. The title is of a song from Aida. I also used some quotes from Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_ in the first chapter. Libby, Tammy and Roger the Bear are mine. Yay me. **

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A Step Too Far**

**Chapter 1**

"Pookie, please?"

He shook his head stubbornly, trying to resist that pout that made her look so adorable. Even he had limits. "No, I told you, no way."

"But you promised!" she insisted.

He stared at her jaw-dropped. "_What_? I've _never_ promised-"

"Actually, Mark, you did," Collins interfered, making her smile victoriously. The bastard.

"Yesterday, we all heard you," seconded Roger. Like he had expected anything else from him.

He frowned. There was no way he agreed to make a fool out of himself without remembering it. He had no idea what made her want to read specifically that scene. He'd rather not ask, he knew. There was no way it was for an audition, unless someone on Off Broadway decided to do a Shakespeare revival or something, which wasn't at all likely. He didn't even think she knew who Shakespeare was. He glanced at her. She had that look… that irresistible puppy-like look he knew there was no fight against. He sighed, defeated. "Fine. Give me the script."

She squealed happily and handed him a script.

Collins smirked. "This will be fun. We're still filming this, right?"

Shit. "No, we're not," he said, quickly reaching for the tripod, to turn off his camera.

Roger stopped him. "Of course we are," he said. He had that wide, annoying, wicked grin on his face. "April and Benny will want to see this when they go back."

_What?_ "No… come on, Roger, there's not a lot of film left and I can't afford buying some more, we really don't want it to be wasted on-"

"Pookie, come on, you go first!"

He couldn't believe he was going to do this. He wouldn't do it for anyone else, but how could he refuse her? He glanced at his first line. Ugh. He swallowed his dignity, closed his eyes then opened them, and started reading. "_What light through yonder window breaks?_" He heard a snort and raised his head from the page. Collins was trying to keep a straight face without much success. A wide grin threatened to crack his face. Roger was soon to follow. The best thing to do would be to ignore them, he knew. And the camera that was still on. "_It is the east, and Juliet is the sun_. _Arise, fair sun, and kill-_" Although they were trying hard to stifle their laughter, he could still hear them. And he knew how stupid he must have sounded. Ugh, he just couldn't do this. Not even for her. Mustering every piece of assertiveness that might help him in resisting that manipulative diva that was his girlfriend, he dropped the script on the coffee table. "Maureen, I'm _not_ reading this!"

"Why, Mark? I think you're doing pretty well so far," laughed Roger.

He turned to give him a look. "Shut up."

"Please Marky?" She was moving closer and closer, until her mouth was near his ear. "I'll make it up to you later…" she murmured in that seductive tone that made his insides melt. Somehow, she managed to say that loud enough for Roger and Collins to hear. He knew what was about to happen next. He dropped his head just as they started wooing madly.

"_Yes_! Go for it, Romeo!" laughed Collins, making him blush.

"Why don't _you_ read it, Collins?" he asked, now getting a little agitated. They stopped laughing in an instant, as if surprised with his unexpected outburst.

There was short, uncomfortable silence, then all of a sudden, Collins snatched the script from the table and stood on the couch. He cleared his throat dramatically, and started reading. "_Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she!_" he cried out, waving his arms this way and that. Their roars of laughter were much stronger than the rest of his speech, but he continued anyway, a bit over-dramatically in everyone's opinion, yet amazingly funny either way. When he finished his long monologue, they applauded him loudly, and he took his bow and jumped off the couch.

He paused the film, chuckling. He didn't even remember he had it on tape. He gazed at the screen, where a close-up of a smiling Maureen remained frozen. He smiled. It's been two weeks since she left New York. These were probably the longest two weeks he had in his entire life. Sure, he was busy all over his head ever since, but still, everything he did felt kind of empty and lonely. He missed both of them so much.

He spent the entire weekend unpacking all the stuff he still had in boxes around the living room. He figured that once Maureen and Libby would get back, there would be some more boxes to handle with. He got the apartment ready for them. From the two spare rooms he had, he chose the bigger one for Libby. It was close to his and Maureen's bedroom, but not too close, and it had a huge window with a view to Central Park. He hoped she'd like it. In one of the boxes he found old books his mom used to read to him as a kid, so he put those on a shelf in her room as well. Maureen made him promise he wouldn't think of buying Libby new dolls or toys, because they had tons of those in San Francisco, and she still wasn't sure how they were going to get all of them to New York. Loyal to his promise, he took a good care of Libby's teddy bear. He didn't put it in her new room, but rather kept it in his own bedroom. It carried a sweet, baby-like smell that he reminded him of her. It was the only thing of hers he could hold on to, other than the photos he had that really didn't count. He made room in his closet for Maureen's stuff, but he suspected that it wouldn't be enough. Luckily, he still had that other room. In the worst case they'd make it a wardrobe or something, he figured. Tammy was a big help during that weekend. She helped him place all the rest of his books on the living room shelves, fold dozens of shirt he hasn't seen for months and hang some pictures and new curtains in Libby's room. Of course, this whole thing was a golden opportunity for her to tease and torture him endlessly, but he knew that no matter what, she was happy for him.

Other than reorganizing his place, the gallery still took most of his time, and he had to get ready for a new photography workshop he was about to instruct soon. Plus, there was this new project. This thing he wanted to do for so long and never found the time. He joined Recalled to Life, Life for short, a group that worked to promote the awareness for AIDS around the world. It provided support for those who had it, and the necessary information for their families as well as for anyone else who simply wanted to know. The people in the group were all well familiar with the affects of the virus and its consequences. Some of them were diagnosed with HIV; there were some others who had AIDS and also, some people like him, who lost their friends for it. Lately they started giving lectures in high schools, colleges and universities, spreading the word wherever they could. The first time he really felt like doing something like that was years ago, when he joined Angel and Collins in their Life Support meeting. He saw how important those meetings were for them, how helpful it was to share their stories with other people. Then he lost them all one by one, and when he was standing near Roger's grave, the last grave, he promised himself he'd do it, in the memory of them all.

While it felt as if everything was finally falling into place, there was this one thing that still bothered him. He had no idea how he could make his mother change her attitude. She never called after that day he told her his news. Whenever he tried to call her, she always managed to avoid speaking to him. She either gave him short answers in her coldest tone, or hung up quickly after saying he caught her on her way out. He knew Cindy was trying to convince her to listen to him, but so far, to no avail. His mom was always hard to convince.

He laid back on the couch and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe it was finally the weekend. He was looking forward to it. His bag was already packed, and the next day he would be on the first plane to San Francisco. He ignored the weather reports that forecasted heavy rainstorms. He had this opportunity to go and he didn't want to miss it. He didn't have any special obligations to Life, and the workshop would start in several weeks, so it was probably the only free weekend he'd have in a while. Tammy said she had no problem running the gallery by herself during the weekend, so he decided to go.

He pressed a button, and Maureen's smile disappeared as the screen went blank. He reached for the phone and dialed the number he came to remember by heart by now. It should be around 6PM for them, he thought as he listened to the dial tone. No one answered, and he was about to hang up when a small voice was suddenly heard from the other side.

"Hello?"

He smiled, feeling his heart melt. He missed this little one. "Libby?"

"Yes."

"Sweetie, it's Mark. How are you?"

"Okay," she said, giggling. "How are you?"

"Libby, who is it?" Maureen's voice was heard from somewhere in the room. There were some rustling noises, and then he heard her more clearly. "Hello?"

"Guess who," he said, smiling.

She laughed. "Well, well, isn't it my favorite camera boy," she said seductively.

How did she manage to do that to him every time? "She'll hear you."

"No she won't, she went to take off her coat, we just walked in," she sounded as if she was smiling. He missed her smile. They talked quite a lot in the passing two weeks, but although talking had its own benefits from time to time, it just wasn't enough. And both of them had very busy couple of days, so when they did manage to talk it was late night for him, and usually he was exhausted. He couldn't wait until he'd get there. He needed to see her. "Mark?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I thought you fell asleep on me again."

"Ha, ha," he said. It happened only once, couple of days before. He woke up the next morning on the couch, without realizing where he was or why the phone's receiver was next to his ear. He knew she wouldn't let him forget it. "Where were you?"

"Shopping. I needed some stuff for dinner. So do you have big plans for the weekend?"

"Actually, I do." He wouldn't tell her, he decided.

"Hot date?"

"Oh, wouldn't you want to know."

"Hmm… should I be very jealous?"

"Cindy invited me for dinner. It was Natalie's birthday and I couldn't be there, so-" He hoped she'd buy that. "And you?"

"Well, my parents are coming over tomorrow so we'll probably meet them for dinner. I thought I'd tell them about us before Libby would."

Her parents? Oh damn. "Are they going to stay with you guys?"

"No, our apartment is not big enough, so they never do."

Should he tell her he was booked on a flight to San Francisco for the next morning? He really wanted it to be a surprise, but what if she'd be too busy with her parents? What if she wanted to break it to them alone? But then, on the other hand, if she was going to tell them, maybe he should be there too. Yet wouldn't it be better telling her instead of showing up on her doorway uninvited? Probably so. He should tell her. "Maureen-"

"Yeah?"

No. He wouldn't tell her. On the worst case, she'd kicked him out. He knew several good hotels in San Francisco. "Nothing. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Pookie," she said playfully.

He frowned. "I thought we had an agreement about this stupid nickname."

"I thought it turned you on when I used it."

"Oh, don't you dare start with that now."

"Why? You're too far away to smack me or anything. I bet I made you blush. Are you blushing?"

He laughed. She was impossible. "I don't know, I don't have a mirror."

"You're so cute when you're blushing." She sounded kind of sad. Just wait for tomorrow, he thought.

"How's work?" he asked, trying to change the subject. He didn't want her to be sad.

"Crazy, but that's okay because at least it means we'll be in New York more or less as planned."

"Which is what, late January?"

"Or early February. They found this guy to replace me once I'm gone, so there's really not much to do for me here anymore, other than showing him around and make sure he'll do everything right."

"Is he cute?" He realized what he had just asked her only after he did.

"Oh, wouldn't you want to know." Good. She was definitely smiling again.

"Yeah, use my own words against me, that's clever," he said. "Is Libby okay?"

"Libby is great. She misses Roger, but she's doing okay without it. Better than I expected." She laughed. "I should make dinner right now, actually, but someone here is distracting me."

"Okay, okay, I know when I'm not wanted. Go make dinner. I'll call again soon, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Give Libby a kiss for me, will you? Tell her that Roger misses her too."

"I hope you're taking a good care of it or I'll personally kill you. She loves this teddy bear to death. I still can't believe she agreed to leave it with you."

"Well don't worry, I'm taking a very good care of it for her. It's safe with me."

"Good." She paused, then added quietly, "I love you Mark."

He smiled. "I love you too. Bye, I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay. Bye Pookie." She giggled, and hung up on him.

He just sat there speechless for a second with the phone in his hand, listening to the dial tone. Then he hung up and laughed, rolling his eyes. "Pookie…"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: you guys… are _amazing_! Really. Your amazingness cannot be put into words. Thank you _so much_ for your reviews! Keep them up, they honestly make my day.**

**Now a technical comment before you go on. Reading through the following couple of chapters, you'll notice that Maureen's parents have different names than those they had in the movie. That's because I didn't really like the way they were portrayed in the movie. They just didn't feel right. Not at all like I would have imagined them. So I made up new parents for Maureen. I hope you'll like them better as well. **

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Chapter 2 **

It was raining heavily for hours, ever since the previous night. It was cold and windy and the rain tapped forcefully against the glass of the windows. In such weather, all she felt like doing was snuggling under a blanket with hot chocolate and a good novel, but she couldn't. The apartment was a mess. There were toys scattered everywhere possible, and four days old laundry. Her housekeeper left just the week before for Dallas, something about moving in with her daughter. In such a short notice, she couldn't find anyone else she could trust. She had to pick Libby up from daycare around 1PM, which allowed her to do some cleaning uninterrupted.

Luckily their apartment wasn't big, just enough for the two of them, so she finished fairly quickly. She still had several hours before she'd have to go out and get Libby. She made herself a cup of coffee and dropped herself on the living room couch. Her gaze drifted to the window. It had the most amazing view to the Golden Gate and the beach, but it was raining so hard at the moment, it was almost impossible to notice them.

She'd miss this, she thought sadly. She'd miss the beach and this apartment. Only thinking about packing made her upset. She had to stay in town at least three weeks longer. They still could be back in New York at the beginning of February, if everything would work out as she expected. It's not that she didn't want to go back to New York, because she did, more than anything. But she lived in San Francisco for so long… She remembered that feeling. It was just like that day, when she decided to leave New York. She cried all the way to the West Coast.

She pulled a blanket around her shoulders and leaned back on the couch. As she sipped her coffee, her thoughts drifted to her talk with Mark the previous evening. She would never admit it to him, but those conversations made her kind of upset. Sure, she loved talking to him. Not only because she could tease him endlessly, knowing he could do nothing to get back at her, but also because he had that raspy, sexy voice over the phone, that in her twenties she never imagined she could associate with Mark. So yeah, talking had its own benefits, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him there, with them.

She still wasn't sure how she was going to break everything to her parents. Unless their flight was delayed or canceled because of the weather, they should be landing soon, she knew. They used to visit them in San Francisco every now and again. It was easier for them to come over than for her and Libby to go to Jersey. She got back in touch with them when she decided to start over. When she lived in the Village, it was just easier to cut herself off from them. She had to have that time for herself, with herself, to figure things out. And surprisingly enough, they accepted that. They didn't call daily to ask how she was doing. She always called at least once a week so they wouldn't be worried about her. And then when she left the Village and moved away, she just needed their approval. New Jersey was her first stop. They were there for her whenever she needed them ever since. They supported her when she decided to get divorced, and when she had Libby. They visited more frequently after the baby was born and helped her so much. They adored Libby. It made her laugh at first, to see the way her father, a senior lecturer of history in one of the best colleges in New Jersey, made a complete fool out of himself just because he thought Libby said something that sounded like 'grandpa.' Later, when she was older, they spoilt her rotten whenever they came over, whether by bringing her dozens of presents or by taking her to the park or the zoo. She suspected that their following visit wouldn't be different. And still, she was kind of worried. Ever since they got back, Mark was all Libby talked about. She didn't want her parents to learn the truth from her. She had to tell them exactly what happened before Libby would. She owed them as much. She just hoped they'd be more supportive than Mark's mom. She smiled to herself. Somehow she knew they would.

The phone rang suddenly. She reached for it, leaving her cup on the coffee table. "Hello?"

"Maureen? It's mom."

She leaned back again. "Mom! Hey! Are you here?"

"Yes, we just checked in, I just wanted to let you know that we're okay."

"I thought I was supposed to pick you guys up from the airport."

"Your father and I didn't want you to go out in this weather. It's crazy outside."

"Yeah, I know. How was your flight?"

"Bumpy. Your father is still recovering." She could hear her father protesting somewhere in the room. She smiled. He would never admit how much he hated flying. "We both need a little rest after this flight. How about we'll meet you two for dinner later?"

"Well actually, Mom, I kind of need to talk with you guys alone about something. How about I'll meet you for coffee instead?"

"Talk? Is something the matter?" her mother's tone changed slightly.

"No, no, everything is great. It's just that I need to tell you something and Dad is always distracted when Libby is around."

Her mother laughed. "That's true. Alright, darling. Give us a call and we'll be ready."

A knock came at the door. She raised her head in surprise. She wasn't expecting anyone, and it was hardly noon. "Mom, there's someone at the door. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Alright. We'll see you later."

"Bye, Mom." She hung up just as another knock was heard. "Just a second!" she called, halfway to the door. She opened it, and her jaw nearly dropped. "Oh my G-" She stopped mid-sentence and just stared at him in amazement. "Mark! I thought you were-" Their conversation from the previous evening echoed back in her ears. _Cindy invited me for dinner_. That was what he told her yesterday on the phone. "What are you-"

There he was, standing on her doorway dripping water all over the floor. He looked as if he was freezing, but he had this huge grin all over his face. His eyes were shinning, half hidden behind his wet glasses. As she pulled him inside it suddenly hit her. When they were talking the night before he _knew_ he was coming over, and he didn't tell her. She closed the door and turned to face him, giving him an incredulous look. He just shrugged, his grin getting impossibly wider. He still didn't say anything. "You bastard, you tricked me," she said softly, hitting his chest playfully.

"I can leave if you want," he said, reaching for the doorknob.

She grabbed his arm and pinned him against the door. "Don't you dare leaving this apartment," she whispered, moving closer. He leaned down to kiss her just as she was about to stand on tiptoes and do the same. He kissed her slowly, gently, taking his time. Then after what felt like hours they pulled away and just stood there, quiet, just holding one another. His heart was beating against her ear, and it took a while before she realized it was more than that. He was shivering. And then she remembered he was still cold and wet. "Come on, let's get you out of these clothes," she said, taking his hand and leading him down the hall to where her bedroom was.

"Easy girl, I just got here," he joked.

"You just _had_ to fly here on the coldest day in the year, right? This way," she nodded towards her bedroom door, and he followed her in. Then he seemed to remember something and looked over her shoulder back to the hallway.

"Hey, where's my favorite Munchkin?"

"At daycare. I should go and pick her up soon." She watched him as he took off his coat and a small smile made its way to her lips. He was finally there. "I can't believe you didn't tell me yesterday."

He shrugged. "I wanted to surprise you."

She reached for a towel and threw at him. He caught it halfway and dried his hair with it. "Surprise me? I almost got a heart attack. How long can you stay?"

"My flight back is on Monday morning. So… two days?"

"And three nights," she said, smiling slyly. He had nowhere to hide. He was definitely blushing now. He still had most of his wet clothes on. It didn't seem as if he cared that he was shivering violently. He just stood there, looking at her. She walked slowly towards him and reached for the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms, letting her pull it over his head and off. She took the towel he laid on a nearby chair and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Mo, I'm okay," he said softly.

"You're dripping water all over my bedroom. You're cold. You're not okay. I don't want you to catch pneumonia because of this trip."

"Come here," he took her hand and pulled her closer. He looked at her hand and smiled. She was still wearing his grandmother's ring. "You didn't change your mind?"

She smiled and laid a small kiss on his lips. "I'll never change my mind."

* * *

They took her car and went to get Libby. She was always tired and cranky at the end of the day, but the moment she detected Mark sitting in the car, all her tiredness was gone in an instant. When they got back home, it was like they never left New York. He surprised Libby as well and brought Roger with him. She took it to her room, where she told all her other dolls and stuffed animals that Roger came to visit them from New York City. 

She showed Mark where everything was in the apartment and got ready for her meeting with her parents. Mark said he didn't mind staying with Libby for couple of hours, and Libby didn't seem to mind. She was too excited being reunited with her favorite teddy bear, so she hardly noticed when her mother left. Also, she didn't know her grandparents were already in town, or she would have refused to stay behind.

* * *

The rain stopped by the time she went out to meet her parents at their hotel. They waited for her in the lobby, and she took them to a small café she knew nearby. The waitress took their orders and once she was gone, they both looked at her expectedly.

"Well, we're listening. What all this secrecy is about?" asked her father. His smile didn't hide his concern.

"First of all, promise that you'll let me finish. I'll tell you everything, but it's kind of hard so let me do it my way. Okay?"

The same expression her father had was now reflected in her mother's face. She leaned forward. "Honey, now I'm starting to worry. What happened?"

It was easier than it looked like, really. There were nothing like Mark's mom. She could tell them. She could trust them to understand her. She could count on their support. It would be okay. "I'm getting married."

Her father went pale. "What? Maureen-"

She frowned. "Daddy, you promised."

"Richard, let her speak," her mother whispered furiously. They both looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

She took a deep breath. Here goes. "When we were in New York on Christmas I met an old friend of mine. I…" she laughed nervously, suddenly embarrassed. "We kind of got back together."

"An old friend? Who-" her father started again. Her mother's glare shushed him up immediately. The waitress chose that exact moment to go back with their coffee.

Once the waitress left, she looked at her mother, who added sugar to her coffee. For a moment, she wasn't sure how she was going to take this. She remembered how much her mother loved Mark back then. She only met him couple of times, but she kept mentioning his name even after the two of them broke up. Yet it's been over 10 years. "Don't say anything stupid, okay Mom?" Her mother just nodded, watching her intently. "It's Mark."

Her mother stared at her in shock. "Mark? The filmmaker? That cute, shy boy you dumped?"

"Yeah, that's the one." An image of a smiling, soaked-to-the-bone Mark standing on her doorway crossed her mind, and she smiled. But how would her parents take it? She glanced at them. They exchanged looks which she couldn't interpret. They said nothing, which made her kind of nervous. She wished she could read their minds.

To her complete astonishment, her father took his wallet out of an inner pocket of his tweed jacket and handed her mother a 20 Dollar bill. Her mother accepted it with a brilliant smile. "Thank you, darling, 12 years later," she said.

She stared at her father, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Never under-estimate the power of maternal instincts, my dear," he said.

She turned her confused gaze to her mother, who placed the bill in her purse and then slowly sipped her coffee, keeping a straight face all the while. "You set a bet on us?" she asked incredulously.

Her mother nodded. "Right after that first night you brought the boy home for dinner. I knew right away. Too bad it took you so long, but I guess it's better late than never."

She smiled. This was easy. She knew she could trust them. "So… I guess that means that you guys are okay with this? Daddy?"

"Well, that all depends," said her father. His expression remained unreadable.

"On what?"

"On how he treats my little princess."

She laughed. She should have known. "He loves Libby. Libby is crazy about him. Don't worry about it, Dad."

"Then you two have my blessing," he smiled. He took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. "Is he moving here with you?"

"No, actually Libby and I are moving back to New York."

They looked as if they weren't expecting this. "But that means you'll have to give up your job," said her mother, looking confused.

"No, I won't. That's the other thing I needed to tell you. I got promoted. They want me to run the department in New York. I accepted it."

"Maureen, that's great. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Dad."

"When are you moving back?"

"By the end of the month, I hope. Maybe a bit later."

"I can't believe you didn't tell us that before!" said her mother. She still looked a bit shocked and confused, but she took everything pretty well. Pretty much like she expected.

"Would you rather hear all that over the phone? You would have killed me, Mom, I knew better."

Her father burst into a heartily laughter. "She's right, Liz. You would never forgive her."

Her mother shook her head. "Oh, both of you are just-"

"When can I see my little princess?" asked her father, ignoring his wife's protests.

She laughed, and then she thought of the greatest idea. "Why don't you come to dinner tomorrow? Mark and I can cook and-"

"Wait a second, Mark? I thought he lived in New York?"

"He does, but he got here this morning for the weekend."

"In this weather?" her father asked in disbelief.

Her mother shrugged. "Must be true love then," she said with a small smile.

* * *

She got back home couple of hours afterwards. The apartment was suspiciously quiet. She locked the door and turned to look at the living room. She couldn't help but smile. Mark was lying on the couch, his eyes closed. A very sleepy Libby was sprawled on his chest, wearing a pink pajama and her Piglet-shaped slippers. There were sheets of paper and about a dozen colorful Crayola's on the coffee table, and some stuffed animals on the floor. It looked as if they were having a good time. Poor Mark, he looked exhausted. First that flight, then the rain and he was finally beaten by a very tiring five-year-old. She slipped out of her coat and shoes and walked towards the couch. 

Mark's eyes snapped open as she picked Libby up. He looked disoriented and slightly confused.

"Shh… go to sleep, I'll just get her into bed," she whispered. Right before she disappeared in the hallway she could see him sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. Libby didn't even stir when she tucked her in, kissed her goodnight and left her room. Mark was waiting for her in the hall. "You look tired."

He smiled. "I am. But we had a great time." He touched her cheek, looking into her, a bit concerned. "What's our verdict?"

"I invited them for dinner tomorrow. Wait and see," she said mysteriously.

"Maureen, come on, I'm too tired for those games," he laughed wearily. They stepped into her bedroom.

"Promise you won't laugh, okay?"

"Laugh? Why would I-"

"They set a bet on us," she was trying all her might to say it as seriously as possible, but the more she thought about it, the funnier it became. Apparently, Mark thought it funny himself, for he screwed up his face, trying to hide the smile that crawled on his lips. When that didn't work, he turned his back on her. Suddenly, he found his bag interesting. He was definitely stifling a giggle. She glared at him, putting her hands on her hips. "Mark Cohen, you promised!"

He burst into laughter and turned to look at her. "How much?"

"My father lost 20 Dollars." His laughter grew stronger. She frowned. "Oh, you'll regret that."

"No, I won't," he said, still laughing.

She flashed him a devilish smile, and before he knew it, she dropped him on her bed and climbed on top of him. "Yes, you will," she whispered huskily, leaning down to kiss him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: hey guys, once again, thanks for your amazing reviews. You might get the feeling that the story moves a bit slow. Sorry about that. I promise that there is major drama on its way so just keep reading. I'll get there. Promise. It's not gonna be all fluff forever.**

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Chapter 3 **

He woke up the next day without knowing where he was or how he got there. The rain had stopped sometime during the night, and sunlight invaded the room through the half-closed curtains. This was definitely not his bedroom. The windows were at the wrong side of the room and he didn't know the blankets that covered him up to his waist. He only wore his boxers, which was odd, yet he wasn't cold. It felt as if the heat was on. There was this sweet smell in the air, like frying or baking of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was exactly that was being cooked. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, then ran a hand through his hair, although he knew it was hopeless. He had the most terrible headache that was pounding right through his temples and he felt this strange weakness all over. It was as if he was hit by a truck.

As he reached for his glasses and put them on, he remembered where he was, and a small smile crept onto his lips. San Francisco. Rainstorms. Maureen. He was glad he decided against telling her he was coming over. Her expression when she opened the door was priceless. He was sorry she couldn't spend the evening with him and Libby, but she had already set up that meeting with her parents. Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with Libby, because he did. She was so amazing. He gave her a bath, and afterwards she showed him all her rag-doll collection and invited him to have a tea party with them. They had sandwiches with peanut butter and strawberry jam for dinner. Then he drew pictures for her to color, and taught her how to sign her name on them. At some point he raised his head from his sheet of paper and caught her looking at him curiously. Her hair was streaming down her shoulders in tangles because he had no idea how to braid it the way Maureen did, and also because he loved the way it was; long and curling at its edges. She was wearing a pink pajama. She looked so adorable. A mini Maureen. He smiled. "What?"

"Want to ask you something," she said kind of seriously.

He wondered if something was wrong. Maybe she wasn't feeling okay. "Sure, Libby. Ask whatever you want."

"It's a secret."

He smiled. "I won't tell anyone."

"Not even Mommy?"

"Not if you didn't want me to."

"Okay." She sat closer to him so she could whisper in his ear. "Are you my Daddy now?"

He stared at her dumbfounded and completely speechless for a moment. What was he supposed to say? Yes, he discussed the options of adoption with his lawyer, but he couldn't tell her that. Not only because he didn't think she would understand, but also because he still didn't tell Maureen about it. "Only if you want me to be," he said eventually, looking at her seriously. She nodded. "So yeah. I guess I'm your Daddy now," he said smiling, and kind of relieved.

"Good," said Libby, wrapping her small arms around his neck.

He smiled to himself as he remembered it. He slipped out of bed and grabbed some clothes from his bag, then headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower he followed the smell into the kitchen, where he found Maureen and Libby having breakfast. Maureen smiled as she noticed him.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." She got up and walked over to him. "You look tired. Someone exhausted you last night?" she asked slyly.

"Yeah. Someone," he smiled, giving her a quick kiss. Then he looked over her shoulder. "Morning, Libby."

"Morning, Daddy." She giggled as he messed with her hair a bit, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Maureen's jaw dropped. She shot him a questioning look. He just shrugged and sat next to Libby. "Seriously, Mark, you don't look too good. You caught that cold, didn't you?" she asked, giving him that accusing look.

"I'm not-" Sneeze. Oh shit. "-sick."

"Oh great," Maureen rolled her eyes as she set a plate in front of him. "Does that mean you won't help me cook for that dinner tonight?"

"Of course I'm gonna help you. I'm okay, I just-" Sneeze. "-need to-" Another sneeze. Crap. Libby handed him a tissue. She looked sad to see him like that. He gave her a reassuring smile. "Thank you, Libby."

"You are going back to bed," said Maureen. "Next time check the weather report before you go on a flight, Mark."

"I did check the weather report. I just ignored it." He felt weak and tired. Even his eyes hurt. He put his glasses on the table and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His headache was getting worse, and his throat felt sore all of a sudden. And now he was also upset for making Maureen upset.

"Libby, be a good girl and bring Mark some pills from the bathroom closet. The ones in the blue box, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy."

"Damn it, I can't believe this," he said once Libby was out of hearing range. He took Maureen's hand and pulled her onto his lap. "I'm sorry."

She ran a hand through his hair. "That's okay. Take a pill, you'll feel better in no time." She hesitated, then asked slowly, "What's this thing with Daddy?"

He could tell it was bothering her. She had that look. "She asked me if I was her daddy now. I really don't mind her calling me that, unless you don't-"

"Mark, shut up," she smiled, leaning forward to kiss him.

"Be careful Miss Johnson, you'll catch a cold," he smiled after she pulled away. It looked like the right time to tell her about his plans to adopt Libby. He took her hand. She looked at him questionably.

"Mommy, I can't find it!"

"I'm coming, Libby." Slowly she let go of his hand and got up. "Go back to bed when you finish here, okay?"

"Maureen-"

"Don't argue. I want you healthy when you meet my mom and dad this evening."

The last thing he wanted to do was to be sick when her parents were there. He nodded and she left the kitchen to get him the pills.

* * *

It was late afternoon when he woke up next. He laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. Those pills did have an affect. It felt as if he was floating, but it actually helped. He felt better. He couldn't believe he was asleep for so long. Just as he thought of getting out of bed the door opened and Maureen walked into the room. She moved slowly, carefully, as if she didn't want to wake him. She walked to her dresser and after opening and closing some drawers, she sat at the edge of the bed and gently laid a hand on his forehead. Only then she noticed his eyes were open, and gasped, startled. 

"Oh shit Mark, you scared me," she said quietly.

"Sorry. What time is it?"

"A bit after four. You look better."

"Yeah, I feel better. Is there anything else in the kitchen I can help you with?"

"No, there's not a lot left. I just came in to take my stuff for a shower." She looked at the door and then back at him, and winked. "Wanna join me?"

He smiled. "I do, but I'd better not." He sat up, leaning against the bed-board. "I'm sorry I ruined this weekend for you," he said quietly, seriously.

"What are you talking about?"

"This cold. Coming here and sleeping all day was not how I planned to spend this weekend."

"I've already told you before. That's okay. At least you're here."

"Yeah, but I-"

She cut off his protest with a kiss. "Stop… apologizing…" she muttered, trailing her kisses to his neck.

He closed his eyes, trying to resist her. "Where's Libby?" he asked, hoping to distract her.

"Asleep…" she murmured against the skin of his neck. "Sure you don't wanna join me in that shower?" her hands were drifting under his sweatshirt, sliding up and down his chest. Her voice was a seductive whisper in his ear. "Come on, I'll let you wash my hair…"

He opened his eyes to meet her gaze. Her greenish-brown eyes had that naughty sparkle he remembered from so long ago. The remainders of his assertiveness faded away as he leaned forward to kiss her fiercely.

"That means a 'yes' then?" she asked breathlessly, slowly pulling away.

"Like someone ever refused to you before."

She smiled and pulled him out of bed. "Never."

* * *

He agreed to check on everything in the kitchen while Maureen got dressed in her bedroom. Libby was in the living room, watching cartoons. As he was moving from the stove to the counter, the doorbell rang. 

"They're here! They're here!" called Libby, already racing to the door. Maureen got there a second before she did, reminding her that she shouldn't open a door without knowing who was on the other side.

He heard Maureen open the door, and only then he realized that he was nervous. It was silly, he knew. He remembered he loved Maureen's parents. They were nice and interesting. He remembered he talked with her father for hours after dinner on that day he went to Jersey with her. And if Maureen said they set that bet back then, there was nothing to worry about, right?

He just stood there, in the kitchen, giving them a chance to say hi to one another. He listened to the mixture of voices; Libby's constant giggling, Mr. Johnson's deep voice and Mrs. Johnson's singsongy accent. He remembered Maureen once told him her mother was originally from England, before she came to study at the States, where she met her future husband.

Mustering all his courage and reminding himself everything was okay, he left the kitchen and joined them. All but Libby got quiet when he walked in. They looked just as he remembered them; Mr. Johnson in a tweed jacket, his wife with her hair tied back in a tight bun. Well, a bit older maybe, but older in a good sense. This was the way he always hoped to grow old. Maureen approached him and slipped her hand in his.

"Mom, Dad, you remember Mark."

"Of course. Hello Mark, good to see you again," said Elizabeth Johnson, holding out her hand. He shook it and smiled, remembering the bet she set with her husband. He wished she would have told him years before it would all end up that way.

"It's good to see you too."

"What do you say, princess? Is he a nice man?" asked Richard Johnson, who didn't seem willing to let go of his little granddaughter, who was still in his arms.

Libby shook her head. She was smiling broadly. "He's my Daddy now, Grandpa!"

"Oh is that so? Then I'd say he's very lucky," said Maureen's father, looking straight into his eyes. "Great to see you again, Mark."

"You too, sir."

"You owe me 20 Dollars, you know."

"Daddy!" Maureen hissed furiously. He smiled when he realized that she was blushing. This was something he figured he'd have to get used to. Suddenly he wished that Roger and Collins were there. They wouldn't believe their eyes.

Richard burst out laughing as Maureen glared at him. "Just kidding, my dear," he assured her as he let go of Libby, who ran to her mother. After seeing that Maureen was well distracted, he turned to him suddenly, and winked. "Since it's been over 10 years, make it double." His eyes, pretty much like Maureen's, were sparkling with mischief.

"Richard, leave the boy alone," said Elizabeth, ushering her husband to the table that was set for five.

"I sit next to Grandpa!" stated Libby as they all took their seats.

Maureen smiled and turned to look at him. "You. Help me in the kitchen," she commanded softly, grabbing his arm.

He brought her hand to his lips, returning her smile. "As you wish."

* * *

Dinner was over hours ago, and they moved to the living room for coffee and cake. Libby was worn out and eventually drifted off to sleep on his lap. He caressed her hair absent-mindedly as he listened to Richard Johnson's story about a student of his. He knew he was being watched. They were careful and discreet but he still noticed them. Either Elizabeth or Richard were glancing at him every once in a while as if to check on him. Mostly they did it when he was talking to Libby or Maureen. He guessed they were just over-protective after the way Maureen's first marriage ended up. It didn't bother him. He didn't have anything to hide. He loved both of them so much. 

"So. You will not get away with it, you two. Tell us how your paths came to cross once again," said Elizabeth. He flinched. Elizabeth Johnson had no way of knowing this, but these were his mother's exact words back then when he came over to talk to her. He couldn't help but think how different her tone was. Even though he anticipated her reaction, it still hurt. He wanted her to be happy for him.

"I have a gallery in New York. Maureen didn't know it was my gallery when she first got there. It was kind of weird, actually."

"Very weird," said Maureen.

Fuckin' weird, he thought, smiling to himself. "So anyway, this is how we first met. Then the next day we met again by accident, and happened to meet this little one as well," he looked down at Libby, who stirred in her sleep. He thought back of that afternoon at Bloomingdales, and the way he helped her to reach for that doll she wanted even before he knew who she was.

"Is that what you are doing those days? This gallery?"

"The gallery, and directing, when I get an interesting project. I also instruct some photography courses every now and again, and lately I joined a group that promotes the awareness for AIDS."

Richard Johnson looked impressed. So did his wife. He looked at Maureen, who was sitting across from him on an armchair. As their gazes locked, she flashed him an encouraging smile. Everything was going pretty well so far.

"Do your parents already know about you two? Maybe we should meet them, to discuss the wedding and everything," said Elizabeth, obviously unaware of his mother's reaction. He guessed Maureen didn't tell them about it.

How could he tell this nice woman that his mom hated her daughter, among other things because she wasn't Jewish? Luckily, Maureen was faster to respond. "Mom, there's nothing to discuss," she said seriously. "We don't want anything big or flashy or anything. Just us. Most of our friends are gone anyway," she ended quietly. He knew she missed them too.

It seemed as if her mother understood. She knew Collins and Roger from before, he knew. She must have been sorry to hear they were no longer with them. "Of course, darling. We'll do it your way."

"There's another thing that had just occurred to me," said Richard all of a sudden.

"What, Daddy?"

"Well, I was wondering how you were going to perform the service, with two different religions." He didn't sound as if he was criticizing them. More as if he was truly interested. Well, they actually thought about that one.

"We discussed that. Mark wants to go by the Jewish service and I have no problem with that, as long as you don't have any objection."

Richard looked at him questionably. "Is it possible? Legally speaking? Even though Maureen is not Jewish?"

"It is," he said. "People are doing this all the time, I have several friends how did."

"Well, I don't see a reason for us to have an objection. What do you say, Liz?"

"I agree. Wedding vows are wedding vows, no matter in which religion." He wished his mother could understand that. He detected a shadow that suddenly clouded Maureen's expression, and he knew she was thinking the same.

* * *

Maureen's parents left with a promise to come back the next day and pick Libby up so that she would spend the entire day with them. They left the dirty dishes in the sink, thinking they could take care of it the following morning. Maureen put Libby in bed while he turned off the lights and checked that the door was locked. 

"I think my parents liked you," said Maureen jokingly as they crawled into bed couple of hours later. She laid her head on his chest.

"At least they won't stand in our way," he said kind of bitterly. He had no hopes he would be able to change his mother's mind.

She raised her head to face him. "Hey…" she started, gently touching his cheek.

"Just forget it."

She looked at him seriously. "Mark, don't let her spoil this for us, okay? You've done all you could. You know as well as I do that this was nearly hopeless."

"I know, it's just…" he sighed, his voice trailing off. He only told her briefly about what his mother said, and he only did that because she insisted. He never used his mother's exact words. Nor did he tell her what his mother said about Libby. Maureen didn't know he even mentioned her. She knew perfectly well what his mother thought about her; she didn't make a lot of efforts to hide it from her back then, when they first met. And still… he wasn't sure how Maureen would take it. She always acted as if she didn't give a damn for what other people were thinking, but he knew that she did.

She moved a bit so that her face was just above his. Even without his glasses on, she was still beautiful. "Mark, I love you," she said seriously. "Nothing of what your mom told you is going to change it. And I'll marry you with or without her consent. She'll just have to get used to the fact that her precious son is married to a drama queen Shiksa." He smiled in spite of himself. "Please stop thinking about it. Go to sleep," she said, leaning down to kiss him.

He closed his eyes and wrapped an arm around her as she laid her head again on his chest. He ran his hand up and down her back slowly. He was exhausted, still under the affect of the pills he took earlier that day, but he couldn't sleep. He sighed.

"What's wrong?" Maureen murmured.

"I can't sleep."

"Want me to tell you a bed-time story?" By the sound of her voice he knew she was smiling.

"I was thinking a lullaby."

"I don't know any."

"You have a five-year-old daughter and you don't know any lullabies?"

"Libby had to put up with my protests' lyrics, I'm afraid," she laughed softly.

"So will I, if I really have to."

For a moment he thought she didn't hear him, because she didn't say anything. He closed his eyes again, feeling himself dozing off, when she began to sing softly, huskily, "_Only thing to do, only thing to do is jump, only thing to do is jump over the moon…_"

He fell asleep in no time, a small smile curling on his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Mark went back to New York on Monday morning as planned, and her parents stayed two more days with them before they left for Jersey. They spent Mark's last day packing. The apartment was quiet since Libby spent the day with her parents, and they figured that Mark would be able to take some of the stuff with him on the following day, and she'd send him the rest later on. Then, before she knew it, the weekend was over, Mark was gone, and the tumult of work started all over again.

She was still instructing Kevin Forester, the man who was about to take her place once she'd leave. She turned her head from the computer screen and looked at him. He was sitting next to her, taking notes, just as he did in the passing weeks. He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he didn't see her observing him. She could understand why he was the one chosen to take her place. He was brilliant, and she never had to explain things to him more than once. She was somewhat relieved that there was someone who did most of the work for her. She was so tired lately. At first she thought she caught Mark's cold or something, but it's been almost two weeks since he was there, so it wasn't so likely. She dismissed it, thinking that it's been tough couple of weeks. She worked like crazy in order to leave San Francisco as scheduled. When she wasn't working, she was at home, packing. She spent as much time with Libby as she could. She was already feeling guilty for leaving her with their next door neighbor for so long every day. Caroline, their neighbor, didn't mind, she said. Libby was like a granddaughter for her. And still, she missed her little girl.

She glanced at her watch and a sigh of relief escaped her. Two more hours and she could head back home. She looked at Kevin again, and smiled. He looked tired too. She knew he was working just as hard to catch up with everything. She was trying to make it easier on him the best she could. "Well, basically I think we're done here for today, unless you have some more questions."

"I do have one question, actually," he smiled. He had a beautiful smile. He was a handsome man in his 40's and as far as her secretary was concerned, the perfect match for her. Kathleen always tried to set her up with rich, single men, and Kevin seemed to be a golden opportunity for her to do so. Whenever she walked into the office and saw the two of them work there together, she would always wink at her on her way out.

"Fire away," she replied, repressing a yawn.

"Will you go out with me tonight?"

She stared at him shocked. She definitely didn't see it coming. Being the handsome guy that he was, Kevin was a source of never-ending attention and gossip from the moment he got to the company. She was well experienced to recognize the flirting type. God knew she used to be just like that, if not worse. But even with no experience, it was easy to guess it by his behavior outside of her office. He was always talking to one of the secretaries. While he worked his magic on them, he was always professional enough to keep his distance from her, which was fine by her. She wasn't interested anyway. But his question caught her completely off guard. She glanced at him. He was looking at her questionably, intently, waiting for her reply. "I'm sorry Kevin, I can't."

His face fell. He looked as if he wasn't ready for a refusal. "Do you have a good excuse?" he tried to sound good-humored, but she could tell he was hurt.

"Yeah, I do," she said, touching her ring absent-mindedly. "I'm seeing someone else."

"Oh." He looked kind of shocked to hear this. "I'm sorry, I had no idea-"

"That's fine. No one knows around here and I rather it'll stay that way." She didn't see any reason to spread the news of her being engaged. They didn't know Mark and she was moving to New York anyway. She figured they'd hear it at some point by people from the New York office; it was inevitable, but until then it was really none of everyone's business. And she hated being in the center of attention. She knew that there were still rumors about Libby's father wandering around the company. She just ignored them the best she could.

He nodded. Somehow she knew she could trust him to keep it to himself. He wouldn't risk exposing his shattered ego by letting people know someone turned him down. He looked at her and smiled. "He's a very lucky man."

She smiled and was about to answer him when sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. The room started spinning madly around her as her vision became blurred. Her pulse quickened its pace, and she could feel her heartbeat go faster and faster. She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes, and waited for it to fade away.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Kevin, concerned. His voice sounded as if it was coming from many miles away.

She slowly opened her eyes, the room going into focus again. "Yeah. Just a bit dizzy."

"You look pale. Can I get you anything?"

She managed a small smile. "No, thanks. I'm fine. Lack of sleep, you know. I've had crazy couple of weeks."

"Try to rest a little. And maybe eat something. You look kind of skinny lately."

"All I need is a bit more than 24 hours in a day," she laughed. "I'm really okay."

He hesitated for a moment, and then said, "If you say so." He glanced at his watch. "Well, I'm off then. I'll see you tomorrow." He gave her another weird look before he left her office.

She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes once again. Sleep. God, how much she needed that. She knew she should rest a bit more. And eat, which was an easy thing to forget. She made sure that Libby would have breakfast each morning, but couldn't bring herself to join her. When she did, she ate very little. She just wasn't hungry so early in the morning. During work she usually had time just for coffee, some fruit every now and again, or a tasteless salad from the cafeteria downstairs. But she really couldn't remember when was the last time she had a decent dinner. Could it be that it was before her parents left? No, that was too long ago, it couldn't be, she didn't-

"Maureen?" Her eyes snapped open. She raised her head to meet her secretary's concerned gaze. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is fine," she said firmly. She hardly recognized her own voice. She glanced at the clock on her computer screen and her jaw nearly dropped. It's been an hour since Kevin left her office. She just fell asleep.

"Is there anything else you need before I'm going?"

"No, that's fine, you can go. I'm also leaving," she said, turning off her computer. Kathleen gave her the exact same look Kevin had given her before he left. "I'm fine, Kathleen."

Kathleen raised one eyebrow. "I didn't say anything."

She sighed. Why were people so impossible today?

"If you don't mind me saying, you do look pale today," Kathleen added. Oh great. Another person to remind me. "Did you eat?"

"Look, Kathleen, I should really get home-"

"Don't change the subject, Maureen."

"I'm not changing the subject, I-"

"You haven't eaten all day," Kathleen looked at her sternly. "Again."

"I'm okay. I'll buy something on my way home."

"You should have gone out to dinner with him."

"Excuse me?"

"Kevin."

She stared at her secretary. How could she possibly know he asked her out?

Kathleen must have read the question in her expression, because she laughed. "He had that look when he left your office. I figured it out myself. He doesn't look like anyone ever turned him down before."

"He'll get over it," she said, getting up. She was still a bit dizzy, but it wasn't as bad as before. It would pass if she would just ignore it. "I have to go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright, boss. See you tomorrow." She knew Kathleen for enough time to know that her smile wasn't real.

* * *

She stopped by an Italian restaurant that was close to their apartment building and got pizza for dinner. It seemed like Libby was waiting for her impatiently, because she ran to hug her legs the moment she stepped into the apartment. She was so weak she almost lost her balance as Libby threw herself at her. 

"MOMMY!"

"Hey, Munchkin," she said softly, fighting the dizziness that grew stronger again. As she knelt to kiss Libby's cheek she noticed Caroline, who approached them from the living room. "Were you a good girl today?"

"Went to the park!" said Libby, smiling brightly.

Her heart melted. She missed her little girl so much. "Really? Did you have a good time in the park?"

"She did," said Caroline.

"Should I believe her?" she asked Libby, tickling her sides. Libby squealed in surprise and ran to the hallway, probably to get some stuff from her room. Standing up, she smiled at the older woman. "Thanks for watching her for me."

"My pleasure. She's a good girl." Then she stopped and looked at her inquiringly. "Are you alright?"

"A little tired. That's all." That _was_ all, she told herself fiercely.

"Well then. I'll leave you two alone. I left you some apple pie I made yesterday."

"Thanks, Caroline. Don't you want to join us for dinner?" she asked, nodding towards the pizza box she placed on the table.

Caroline shook her head. "Oh no, that's alright, my dear."

"Thanks again. Will you be able to pick her up from daycare tomorrow as well?"

"Of course," said Caroline, turning to go. Then she remembered something and turned to her once again, looking at her strangely.

"Someone was looking for you on the phone earlier. A man," she added, smiling mysteriously. "He didn't leave a number and he refused to say his name. I assume you know who he is."

She smiled. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Is there something you're not telling me? Something I should warn you from?"

Caroline was out of town during that weekend Mark and her parents came over. "He's just an old friend I met when we were in New York," she said.

It was clear that Caroline didn't buy the 'just an old friend' excuse, yet she didn't try to push it any further, as if she sensed that she was too tired to make long explanations. She smiled politely, called goodbye to Libby, and left the apartment.

* * *

"…_So they found a cozy place under the trees where they slept well until the morning; and Dorothy dreamt of the Emerald City , and of the good Wizard Oz, who would soon send her back to her own home again_." She closed the book and laid it on the nightstand next to Libby's bed. "Time to go to bed now, baby." 

"Can't we read another chapter?" pleaded Libby, although she looked sleepy.

She yawned. She couldn't believe how tired she was. "Tomorrow I'll read you two more. I promise."

"Mommy, when is my birthday?"

"On the same day we're gonna see Mark again in New York, just like I promised you. So we'll celebrate your birthday only after we'll get there, is that okay?"

"Yes, that okay."

"Maybe grandma and grandpa will able to come over because New York is closer to where they live."

"It is?"

"Yeah."

"Will I get many presents?"

"Of course you will, baby. We'll ask Mark to take us to the best stores in town to get you some new stuff, okay?" Libby nodded. She smiled and caressed her hair softly. "Now go to sleep, Munchkin."

"Okay."

"Sweet dreams, Libby," she kissed her forehead and turned off the lamp on her nightstand. She was about to leave the room when Libby called her back.

"Mommy?"

"What is it, Munchkin?"

"Will Mark leave us too?"

She froze on the threshold. Where the hell did that come from? She took a deep breath, then turned to look at Libby. The only light came from the hallway, streaming into her room, illuminating her small figure in the bed. She looked so fragile, laying there, Roger the Bear sits faithfully beside her. "Why would you ask that, Libby?" she asked slowly, hoping the concern in her voice wasn't so clear.

"Because daddy left," was Libby's soft, sad reply.

She sat on her bedside and considered her answer. She wasn't sure what to say. Libby hadn't asked about him for a while. Ever since Christmas, when they first met Mark, she realized. What caused this to surface again?

Before she had a chance to answer, though, Libby spoke again. "Daddy isn't coming back, right?"

She locked her gaze with her daughter's. The question remained silent in her glistening greenish-brown eyes, so much like her own. She sighed. "Libby… no. Daddy is not coming back," she said softly.

"Didn't he love us?"

"Sweetie…" He didn't want you. How could she possibly explain that to her five-year-old? "Of course he did."

"Then why did he leave?"

"It's more complicated than that, Libby," she said as gently as she could. "But he has his own life now, and we have ours. Besides… Mark is gonna be your daddy pretty soon. I thought you wanted him to. Didn't you?" Libby nodded, holding her teddy bear closer. "Mark will never leave. I can promise you that."

"And you will never leave too?"

Her little face looked so sad. It made her heart ache. "Of course not. What will I do without my little Munchkin?" she smiled, holding back tears. She leaned over to place a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I'm not going to leave you, ever. I promise. Alright?" Libby nodded. "Now sleep. Look, Roger is tired too."

Libby closed her eyes obediently. "Night, Mommy."

"Good night, baby."

* * *

She finally made it to her bedroom. She was still weak, but she hoped that a good night sleep would make it go away. She crawled into bed and leaned back on her pillows. She was exhausted, but too distracted to fall asleep. Her conversation with Libby still echoed in her ears. She sighed, and reached for the phone that laid on her nightstand. 

Only when he answered the phone, she realized it was after midnight in New York. "Hello…"

"Shit, were you sleeping?"

"Yeah…" he groaned softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't check my watch, I just dialed. I didn't realize it was so late there."

"That's okay. What's up?"

"You know, the usual stuff. You?"

"The same. Are you okay? You sound kind of weird."

"I'm okay, just a little tired," she said. She debated whether or not to tell him about what had just happened with Libby, but eventually decided against it. She didn't want to make him worried. There was no point when he was so far away anyway. " How's work?"

"Pretty good. I started this course I told you about. I've got a great class."

"That's good." Should she tell him she wasn't feeling okay? "Mark-"

"Yeah?"

What was the point? It wasn't serious. She'd be fine in a day or two. There was nothing a good night sleep couldn't solve. "Nothing. Just wanted to say good night."

"Good night, Mo."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure." She heard him yawning. "Night."

She hung up and dropped the phone on the bed next to her. She pulled the covers over her head and closed her eyes.

It was morning before she knew it.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- a quicky update, yay for me and for my Passover break! Once again, your reviews were awesome. Your speculations made me smile, but I'm not going to comment about any of them so I won't give anything away. So thanks again, everyone, and happy holiday, whichever you celebrate. Enjoy the following chapter! I'll be waiting for your feedback!**

**Chapter 5**

He hurried down the street and into the building. He knew he was running late as it was. He always got there late. Oliver, the coordinator of Life, used to tease him that it was because he was so busy and important, but he knew he didn't mind as long as he got there eventually. It's just that there was always so much to do. It often happened that he simply lost a track of time.

He pushed the heavy doors open and hurried down the hall. He hoped he didn't miss anything important. They met once a week, sometimes more when they were in the middle of a big project, like those weeks when they did lectures in colleges around New York. And he knew they had some important issues to discuss. Somehow he hoped they hadn't yet started, although it wasn't likely. Oliver was obsessed with doing stuff right on time.

He could hear the constant murmur of everyone's voices, all speaking excitedly to one another at the same time. What was so great about Life was that everyone shared this amazing enthusiasm to their project. They put their lives and souls into everything they did. There was so much energy, so much spirit in everything they did, and it was such a great feeling, being able to help someone, even if it was only by mental support. There were a lot of people out there who needed that the most.

As he opened the door, silence fell in the small auditorium they used for their meetings. The murmurs stopped instantly, and dozen faces turned to look at him as he entered. He flashed Oliver an apologetic smile and took a seat in the front row as quietly as possible.

"Here he is, the man of the hour!" called Oliver, jumping to his feet from the podium he was sitting on. He frowned. He hated being in the center of attention, and Oliver knew it damn well, yet he kept embarrassing him every time he got there late. He never let him making silent entries. He always had something to say. "Glad you could join us, Mark, just in time to go into business. We were just making some introductions."

It was then when he noticed three people that he had never seen there before. Two men and a woman eyed him curiously. He smiled sheepishly as he silently acknowledged them.

"Mark, these are Chris, Andrew and Melinda. The new members of the family. Guys, this is my right hand, the great Mark Cohen."

He shot Oliver a warning glare. Sometimes he seriously thought of setting him up with Tammy. Although Oliver wasn't Jewish, those two still seemed like a match made in heaven. Hmm. Maybe hell was more like them. It seemed like they were both born to torture him. He should mention his name the next time he'd speak with Tammy.

"Alright, we've got a lot of stuff to talk about today, and very little time to do that. First of all, we got some good feedback from that series of lectures we gave at the NYU. Very good responses, so well done, guys. Excellent work. Now, I've got great news about that benefit we were talking about. Well, in our last meeting Mark suggested to have it in his gallery uptown, but that won't be necessary, since the manager of Hilton suggested making the hotel's ballroom available for us for the night." Some people cheered. He smiled. Slowly but carefully, their small group was gaining recognition. "Lindsey, I hope you're still okay with making the speech that evening, since our little Marky here suffers from stage-fright." Everyone cooed and wooed stuff that sounded like "Aww, poor Marky," and he lowered his head in humiliation, wishing he could just disappear.

"Of course, I'll make the speech," said Lindsey from couple of rows behind him.

"Mark, choose one of your very best films for the screening, since there are going to be some important people there that night," said Oliver and turned to the three new people. "Mark is a filmmaker; you might have heard his name before. Just last week we watched one of his very first works, Today For You, a film he made about his and his friends' lives in the Village."

He remembered the previous week. It was painful to watch that film again, that year when they got so much but also lost so much. It was even more painful to share it with others. But it was a good experience. He viewed the film and they had that long discussion afterwards. It turned out that several people lived in the Village at the same time. One or two thought they knew Angel and Mimi from back then. Another was a student of Collins' at MIT before he got himself expelled for his theory of Actual Reality. Later that night they went to dinner at the Life Café and just talked about their friends that were no longer with them.

"Alright. So Mark, I'm counting on you with the film, Lindsey, we can go over your speech during the next meeting. The benefit is in about three weeks, at the last weekend of February. We'll discuss hours and guests later."

Maureen would be there by then, he thought. He couldn't help but smiling like an idiot. Everything would be so much simpler when she and Libby would finally get here. No more phone calls in the middle of the night. Instead he'd be able to wake up beside her every day for the rest of their lives. He wanted to kick himself sounding so cliché when there were more important things for him to think about. He shook his head, wiped that foolish grin off his face and gave his full attention to Oliver, who specified the schedule for their next series of lectures.

* * *

He glanced at his watch as Oliver summed up. With a little luck, he'd be able to get back to the gallery before closing time. Maybe he'd take Tammy for dinner. Although she was teasing him mercilessly lately for being a love-sick puppy, he was in a good, generous mood. It was only a matter of days until Maureen and Libby would get to New York. Life couldn't possibly get any better. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Cohen?"

He raised his head to meet the smile of a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger. He was one of the people Oliver introduced to him earlier in the meeting, only he couldn't remember his name. He was tall and dark haired, more or less his age. There was something in his eyes that looked kind of familiar, which he found strange, since he had never met the guy before. "Call me Mark, please," he said, smiling at the stranger, as they made their way out to the hall. He was still looking over his shoulder when someone addressed him as 'Mr. Cohen,' expecting to see his dad there.

The man smiled. "Mark. Hi. I just wanted to say that I am familiar with some of your works. It's an honor to meet you in person."

He remembered the guy's name as they shook hands. "Thank you. Andrew, right?"

"Andy. I'm always expecting to see my dad when someone calls me by my full name," smiled Andy. It was as if he repeated his own thoughts.

He returned his smile. "Andy. Nice to meet you. It's always good to have new people around here. Makes us feel like we're really doing something."

"You _are_ doing something. More than you'll ever know."

"That's good to hear."

They walked along the hall, and he answered some of Andy's questions about Life's activities. The sun was slowly setting as they left the building. He looked up, lingering at the sight of the pinks and oranges of the sky, merging together into the most amazing color, too amazing to be described in words. He wished that he had his camera. For a moment, he forgot Andy was still standing there. As he turned to back to him, the other man looked at him amused.

"The soul of an artist. I never knew it really existed," he said jokingly.

"I guess it does, but hardly around here. In a city like New York people are always in a hurry. Sometimes it's good to just take your time, look at things like that," he looked up again. The sun was almost gone, hidden behind the tall buildings of the city that never slept.

"All this is kind of new to me. Things move slower at the West Coast I guess. That's where I'm originally from."

He smiled. "Really? Where from?"

"In the past few years, Portland Oregon. Then I decided I needed a drastic change, and I always wanted to go to New York City. So here I am. I heard about Life when I was working in Oregon, but never found the time to join you guys."

"It's better late than never."

"That's true."

He glanced at his watch. Tammy would kill him for sure. "I should go back to work."

"The gallery Oliver mentioned?"

"Yeah. I left my partner there alone. Again. One day she'll just murder me in my sleep or something."

"She sounds charming," Andy laughed. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to come and take a look."

"Sure, no problem. It should be close by the time we'll get there but you can have the private tour."

"Great."

They walked in silence for a while, each was occupied with his own thoughts. As he glanced at Andy, he couldn't help thinking what his story was. Did he have AIDS? Did he watch his friends die one by one, like he did? Was he there simply because he wanted to spread the word and nothing more? Everyone in Life had some sort of a story. That was the one thing they all had in common. That, and the strong will to pass their stories onward.

As if he sensed his silent question, Andy smiled sadly. "You're wondering what I'm doing here." He paused, then said, "I was diagnosed with HIV several years back. I was okay for a while, but then several months ago my T cells count became really low."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"That's not your story, I assume." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No, it's not. Back then when I lived in the Village, AIDS was inseparable part of our life. Most of my friends were sick. They all died eventually. The last one was my best friend. He died last year."

"It must have been tough."

"Yeah. It was. But it made us learn some important lessons."

"Like what?"

"Like that there's no day but today," he said sadly.

There was a short silence. Andy seemed to hesitate, but eventually he said, "Sometimes I wish that someone will shake me and tell me it's just a huge, horrible mistake."

The only thing he could think of was Roger. He remembered Roger said something similar when he got back home from rehab. He refused to speak for weeks, and then one evening he just couldn't hold it inside any longer, and he simply fell apart. They both cried that night. "Don't let it break you. You must fight it. You must have faith." _A leap of faith_. He smiled, remembering the person who first got that mantra stuck in his head, but only for a moment. His smile faded as he looked at Andy seriously. "If you ever need to talk about it with anyone-"

"Thanks. That'll be great."

They got to the gallery just as Tammy was closing the doors. As she saw them approaching, she raised her hands in silent desperation. He rolled his eyes. She was becoming such a drama queen lately. "Here we are," he said, opening one of the glass doors. Andy followed him inside. Tammy approached them, that accusing expression already plastered on. "Be nice, Horowitz, we've got company," he warned her.

"I'm always nice, Cohen, That's why you love me so much!" she said, smiling innocently.

"Andy, this charming creature is Tammy Horowitz. Tammy, Andy is new in Life."

"Nice to meet you," said Tammy, flashing her best smile at Andy as they shook hands. Then she turned to look at him, and her smile turned into something much more terrifying. But then, it quickly transformed into a wicked grin as she handed him a piece of paper. "You. Lover boy. _Someone_ was looking for you while you were gone. And although I tried to put some reason into the girl's head, she insisted I'd tell you to call her back. I don't know what she's thinking."

He took the paper from her hand and glanced at it. He smiled as he recognized the San Francisco dialing region. "Thank you, Tammy. See? You can be a real doll when you really want to." He turned to look at Andy, who was observing the scene in front of him, clearly amused. "I gotta return this call. Will you be okay here for a while? I'm sure Tammy will be happy to answer your questions."

"I won't keep you long," he heard Andy say as he walked over to his office. Closing the door, he reached for the phone and glanced at the note. It was the number at her office, he knew. He wondered if he should call her back to that number or her cell. He avoided bothering her at work because he knew how busy she was, especially in her last days there. But if she was calling him from there, maybe it was okay.

He dialed her work number, and soon a female voice answered the call. That was strange. He was sure it was her direct line. "Hi, I'm calling back for Maureen Johnson."

"I'm sorry, Maureen is not available right now. Can I take a message?"

"Uhh…" He wasn't sure if he should say he was her fiancé. Not only because it sounded so strange, but also because he wasn't sure if she told anyone there about it. "Tell her that Mark Cohen was looking for her, please."

There was silence at the other end, and then the woman asked hesitantly, "Your name is Mark?"

"Yeah… is there a problem?" he asked slowly. There was something really weird in the way she had asked that.

"Will you hold on a moment?"

"Wait, is something wro-"

She was gone before he could end his question, but soon another voice was heard. A male voice this time. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm looking for Maureen, she left me a message earlier," he said again, now a bit panicked. What the hell was going on?

"Your name is Mark?" The man asked.

"Yeah. Is she there?" he was getting impatient. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Someone knocked on his office's door and Tammy peeked inside. He guessed Andy left already, but didn't have time to ponder over it. He motioned her to hold on for a moment.

"My name is Kevin Forester, I'm working with Maureen. I'm afraid she can't talk to you right now."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Today is her last day here, as you probably know. She collapsed during a staff meeting we had… I guess we should have seen this coming, she wasn't feeling well lately."

Collapsed… Oh shit. "What do you mean 'she wasn't feeling well lately'? Where is she now?"

"She's here in her office, we got a doctor for her; he's with her right now. We'll take her home the moment he'll let us. She happened to mention your name this morning so when you called-"

"Is she conscious?" God, he couldn't believe he was even having this conversation.

"She's in and out of it. I'm sure she'll be okay. She was really tired lately." She mentioned it once or twice when they talked, but she never made it sound that serious. Why the hell she hid it from him? "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

"Just tell her that I-" Love her. He sighed. "No. Thanks. I'll try to call her later."

"I hope she'll be okay."

"Yeah. Me too," he said, and slowly hung up. He sat back in his chair and released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding.

"What's going on?" It was then when he realized that Tammy was still in the room, watching him curiously.

He turned to look at her, his heart still pounding, his mind empty. He had no idea what to think, what to feel. Suddenly, San Francisco seemed so far away. Out of his reach. Helplessness was slowly creeping under his skin. "Something is wrong with Maureen."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Someone was shaking her arm, gently yet persistently. She felt it, but the last thing she felt like doing was open her eyes and face the new day. She was never a morning person. It felt as if her eyelids were glued together. She just wanted to keep sleeping.

"Mommy, wake up!"

Slowly, she opened her eyes to meet her daughter's smiling face. She smiled tiredly. "Munchkin, what time is it?"

"Late, wake up!"

She glanced at the digital clock on her bedside. 7:05. Man, it felt as if she went to bed five minutes ago. How was it possible that it was morning already? Ugh. She should get up. "Alright, alright, I'm up… did you brush your teeth?"

"I did," Libby nodded. As she sat up, she noticed that her little girl was already dressed. Her last attempt to get dressed by herself didn't go so well, but she looked alright now, wearing the clothes they chose from her dresser the day before.

"Look at you, you're all ready! Did you do all that by yourself?" She felt so proud of her little girl as she nodded, smiling brightly. "That's my girl. Go watch TV, I'll make you some breakfast."

Only after splashing some cold water on her face, she realized why Libby was so happy that morning. It was her last day at work. At the end of that week they'd be back in New York. Their apartment was nearly empty. Most of their stuff was already at Mark's apartment. She sold her car the week before. It was finally happening. She was going back home. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she covered the dark circles under her eyes with some more makeup. Never mind that, she thought. Everything would be okay once they'd get to New York.

She changed her nightclothes with a new suit. Her forehead cringed in confusion as she looked at herself in the full length mirror in her bedroom. The suit's pants hung loosely on her waist. This was strange, she thought, reaching for a belt from her dresser's drawer. They matched perfectly the last time she wore it to work. She loved that suit so much. When did she manage to lose so much weight for such a thing to happen? It's not like she felt weak anymore, because she didn't. Actually, she felt better. She really did. She was trying her best to eat and rest, although work was still crazy. But it was her last day. She'd have couple of days of peace and quiet before their flight.

After she was dressed and ready, she made a quick breakfast and called Libby to come to the kitchen. She watched her daughter as she ate, smiling at the girl's good mood. Libby talked constantly about seeing Mark again and about all the birthday presents she was going to get. Then she dropped Libby at daycare and took a bus to the office. Libby's happiness was contagious, it seemed. She couldn't stop smiling as she got to the company building.

The day flew by. She had some phone calls to make and a meeting with Bill, her manager, plus a last staff meeting at noon. She intended to leave right afterwards. She didn't want to stay there more than necessary. She wanted to spend some time with Libby. Maybe she'd take her out for dinner. Yeah, that would be fun.

After confirming their flight, she glanced at her watch. She still had time before the last meeting that required her participation. It was around 4PM on the East Coast. She wondered if it would bother Mark if she'd call him to the gallery, but suddenly, she didn't care. Their flight was confirmed, it was only a matter of days until she'd see him again. She just wanted to hear his voice. She reached for her phone.

But it wasn't Mark who answered the call. "Hello?"

"Tammy? Hi, it's Maureen."

"Oh, hi! How are you? We're gonna see you around here pretty soon, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty damn soon," she laughed. "I'm doing okay. How are you?"

"You know, the usual. Seriously, I'm starting to think that I am the one running this gallery."

"Oh, Mark is not there?" She hoped the disappointment in her voice wasn't that clear. She really wanted to talk to him.

"Is he ever here?" asked Tammy. She recognized the false bitterness in her voice. "He's out for a meeting. You know, this new Life thing."

"Yeah, I didn't know it was today," she said. "Do me a favor, Tammy, tell him I called? He can call here to my office, I don't mind."

"Sure, I'll tell him. I dunno when he'd be back here, but I'm writing this down. Is this the same number you're calling from?"

"Yeah. It is."

"Okay. Anything else you need me to tell him?"

"No, thanks Tammy, I'll try to call again later. In case he forgets to call me back."

"Yeah, he can be forgetful at times," said Tammy. She had that contemplated tone that made her laugh. She knew what Tammy was up to.

"I'm not gonna change my mind, you know. I _will_ marry him no matter what you say," she said smiling.

"Well, you can't say I didn't try to warn you." There was a short pause before she said, "Oh damn. Sorry, Maureen, I have to go. I'll tell Mark you called."

"Alright. Thanks Tammy. I'll see you soon."

"Okay. Have a nice day!" said Tammy before she hung up. She just sat there for a moment, still smiling because of Tammy's hopeless attempts to put some reason in her head. Nothing was going to change her mind though. This time she would make the right choice.

"So this is your big secret," said a familiar voice from behind her. She turned, startled. Kevin was leaning against her doorframe, a sly smile slowly curling on his lips. The back of her chair was turned to the door, so she didn't notice him when he walked in. She was doing all she could to avoid him ever since the day he first asked her out. Being around him started to get really uncomfortable, especially since they still spent so many hours together. Apparently, not only that he wasn't used to be turned down, he was also determined to change her mind. He asked her out three and four more times, and the rest of the time he was just throwing all those innuendoes at her, that she really just wanted to get those last days in San Francisco over with. She was tired of his attempts to hit on her whenever he had the chance, and she had no intention to flirt back, not even to check if she still had it. Knowing the type, it might even make him think he had some chance.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't you knock?" she asked coldly.

He shrugged, an innocent expression plastered on his face. "I did. You didn't hear me."

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Couple of minutes. I didn't mean to listen to your conversation. I came to ask if you wanted to join us to lunch."

"No thanks, I've got some stuff to do before the meeting."

He just stood there on her doorway for a moment longer, eyeing her curiously. He seemed to be waiting for her explanation, as if she had to come up with one. She really wasn't sure why he was expecting her to have an explanation. It was a private conversation. "Are you going to tell me or will I have to force it out of you?" he asked eventually.

"What do you mean?"

"Who is this Mark you're gonna marry? How is it that no one ever heard of it before?"

"I didn't think it was any of anyone's business." Including you, she added silently.

"Is that why you accepted the job in the New York office?"

"Whether it is or not is my business," she said firmly.

"I see that you're not willing to talk about it," he said, the most annoying smile curling on his lips.

"That's right. I'm not. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She could punch him for that naughty sparkle his eyes had once she asked that, but pretty soon he snapped out of it. "No. Just thought you'd want to join us for lunch," he said again. "Anyway, I'll see you in the meeting later."

She nodded but didn't say anything. He shrugged, as if he couldn't understand what her problem was, and left her office. How could she possibly fall for guys like that back then? Ugh. She huffed, angry with herself for letting him piss her off so quickly. Someone knocked on her door and Kathleen peered inside.

"Is everything alright in here?" she asked.

"Everything is fine," she said, reaching for some papers. "Kevin is being a jerk again," she added under her breath.

Kathleen could still hear her, for she shook her head and gave her a sorrowful look. "What did he do now?"

"Nothing new, just the usual stuff," she said. She was tired of him. It was giving her a headache. "Kathleen, do me a favor. I'm gonna get me some coffee from that new place around the corner. I'm expecting a call so if a man named Mark Cohen is looking for me, tell him I'm on my cell, okay?"

"Sure. I'll tell him," said Kathleen, smiling slyly. "Could that be the reason Kevin stormed out?" she wondered aloud.

"Maybe," she said shortly.

"I can go down there and get that coffee for you if you want," Kathleen suggested.

"No, thanks, that's okay. I could use the fresh air," she said, reaching for her purse. "I'm going, I don't wanna miss the meeting. Don't forget about the call, okay? It's important."

"Mark Cohen. Got it," said Kathleen with a small smile that told her that she would not try to set her up with Kevin anymore.

* * *

She got herself some coffee and a muffin and took a pill for her headache, but it didn't do much help. Her head was still pounding as she made her way to the conference room, where the meeting was about to begin. Try as she might, she couldn't avoid Kevin, who quickly took a seat beside her. He didn't mention their previous conversation, but she could notice him glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She didn't care. She didn't care of anything anymore. She just wanted to go back home, have a quick, hot shower and crawl into bed. 

The meeting was long, and the more it lasted, the more she felt like she was losing interest. She took notes to keep herself awake, although she was having a hard time following what was said. It was so hot in the room that at some point she just had to take off her jacket. Her sudden movement caught the attention of Bill, her manager, who was sitting across from her. He stopped the man who was speaking and looked at her strangely.

"Is everything alright, Maureen?"

"Yeah, it's just a bit warm in here."

He gave her a weird look, and the meeting resumed. She took a deep breath and tried to keep her attention focused on what was going on, but she couldn't. Something was wrong. It was getting hotter and hotter with each passing second. She could feel the sweat gathering on her forehead as her heartbeat quickened its pace. It felt as if there was not enough air in the room. She wanted to ask someone to lower the heat or open a window, but everyone was so concentrated at what was said in the meeting, no one seemed to pay much attention to her.

The dizziness came out of nowhere. It was as if she was falling, falling with no end. Someone was calling her name, then another, and then another, but she couldn't answer. She closed her eyes… or didn't she? It all turned blank, and she was sinking. Their voices were getting louder, closer. They were all around her. She had no air, she wanted to scream at them. She was choking. They asked if she was okay and she wanted to say that she couldn't breathe, but she couldn't speak. She just wanted to sleep. She was tired, so tired-

Someone picked her up. She felt herself being carried away. She forced herself to open her eyes. Her unfocused gaze met Kevin's eyes. "Calm down. We're taking you to your office. Everything is gonna be okay," he said softly, soothingly. She felt too weak to speak so she simply nodded, letting her head drop on his chest again. And then darkness took over.

* * *

"Hey, she's waking up." 

"Maureen? Are you okay?"

"Lady, Gentlemen, will you please sit aside and let the poor girl some air?"

A phone was ringing in the distance. "… is not available right now. Can I take a message?"

"Maureen?"

She was hurt all over. She had no idea what was going on, but the voices were all around her, getting stronger and clearer as she regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open. The sun from the windows hurt her eyelids. She winced as she tried to sit up, but a gentle hand stopped her from doing so, slowly pushing her backwards.

"Not so fast, honey. Lie back down," a voice said. Once her vision cleared, she realized that she recognized his face. It was that nice doctor that worked in the building next to them. She sighed and leaned back. He nodded. "That's better."

"What happened?" she asked in what she couldn't believe was her own voice.

"Well, you scared the hell out of everyone in that conference room. That more or less sums it all up." His voice was gentle, but it was pretty clear that he was serious.

She slowly recollected her surroundings. She was lying on the small sofa in her office. Kathleen, Kevin and Bill were sitting not far behind, letting the doctor do his job, but they were clearly worried as well. And then something else hit her and she nearly jumped to her feet. "Damn it. Libby. I gotta go get my-"

Kathleen hurried forward and sat on the sofa next to her. "Libby is okay, Maureen, I called daycare and Caroline. She'll pick her up and watch her until we'll get you home." She laid a gentle hand on her forehead. "Just calm down now."

"There's no wonder this happened, with what I'm hearing from your colleagues. You need to rest. You cannot exhaust yourself the way you did in the past several weeks. I'll give you something to help you sleep, but you must promise you'll take a better care of yourself." The doctor was looking at her sternly. She felt like she was Libby's age.

"I will. I promise. But I really have to get home."

"I'll take her there," she heard Kevin suggest. She closed her eyes. Maybe he wasn't such a jerk after all. This was her last thought before everything got dark again.

* * *

Floating, soaring, as if she was out of her whole body… it felt so strange. What happened? Where was she? It was so hard to open her eyes. She moaned in pain. Something felt wet against her forehead. A hand slipped gently along her cheek. As she opened her eyes, she recognized Caroline's face hovering above hers. Her expression was comforting, grandmother-like. She smiled. 

"Finally, you're awake," she said quietly.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Several hours," said Caroline, helping her sitting up against the pillows. "Those pills the doctor gave you had a great affect. I've never seen someone falls asleep so quickly and for so long. I guess you really needed it."

"I did," she said, yawning. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine. Libby is asleep. She was really worried about you but I didn't want her to stay up for so long. I'll stay with you tonight to make sure you're okay."

"Thank you, Caroline. For everything you did for us today."

"You're welcome, dear. I'm just glad that you're alright. Now is there anything I can get you? You should eat something."

"I'm not hungry, but I guess I should." She noticed a bowl of water on her bedside. A cloth was half dipped in the bowl. She looked at Caroline questionably. "What is that for?"

"When your colleague brought you here you had a fever. You still do, but I think you'll be fine by tomorrow." She got up. "I'll get you some soup. You should eat something, even if you're not hungry."

"I will. Thanks."

Caroline hesitated before she left the room, but eventually turned back to her and said, "While I'm doing that, you should give this man a call. You know, that one who is just an old friend of yours." Although she tried to keep a straight face, she couldn't hide her smile. "I guess you are _very_ close friends, since he called 4 times this afternoon to check up on you."

She laughed softly. "I guess you kind of figured it all out by now, huh?"

"It's very hard to keep those things from me. Other than my very good instincts after raising three daughters of my own, you have a little girl who cannot stop speaking about a man named Mark from New York City who is going to be her daddy."

She smiled. She should have known it would be Libby who would give her away. "Alright. I'll call him back."

"I'll get you that soup."

She waited until she heard the rustle of dishes in the kitchen before she reached for the phone. She knew it was after midnight in New York, but knowing Mark, he was probably still up, waiting for her call. And indeed, he picked up after the second ring.

"Maureen?" he asked urgently.

"Yeah."

"Oh, thank God! What the hell is going on?"

"I'm fine. Really, I was just-"

"-Don't tell me you're fine, you collapsed at work, you are everything but fine!" he cut her off abruptly, as if he was waiting the entire day to tell her that. The panic in his voice was clear. He had never raised his voice on her. Only once, back then when they dated, and he apologized for two weeks afterwards for doing that. And now he suddenly seemed to realize he had done it again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that, it's just…" he sighed. "You had no idea how it felt… hearing that something is wrong with you, knowing I can't do anything about it."

"I know." She didn't know who told him what happened. She didn't remember much of what happened earlier that day. She remembered waking up on the couch in her office, but nothing more. She figured he must have returned her call at some point of the day. "I'm sorry I got you worried."

"I was really scared," he said quietly.

"I was scared too."

"Please take care of yourself, okay? At least until you'll get here and then I will. Damn it, Maureen, how could you not tell me you weren't feeling okay?"

"Mark, come on, stop this. You said it yourself. There was nothing you could possibly do. I'm okay. I'll be okay. I promise."

There was a short pause and then he asked, "How's Libby?"

"I only saw her this morning. She's asleep now. You should sleep too, it's late."

He sighed. "I know. I will. It's been a long day. I just had to make sure you were okay."

"I'm okay. I miss you so much," she added quietly. Suddenly, she felt like crying.

"I miss you too," he said softly. "Try to get some rest, huh?"

"You too. Good night, Marky."

"Night Mo."

She hung up, and just sat there in bed, thinking of nothing. Soon Caroline was back in the room. She ate a little, and answered the older woman's questions about Mark. Caroline said she'd spend the night on the couch in the living room, just in case they'd need her. After Caroline fell asleep, she went to check on Libby. She sat on her bedside, just watching her as she slept soundly. She smiled, thinking back of the day she had first seen her after she was born. She was tiny, so tiny that she was afraid to hold her. But then she realized that there was nothing to be afraid of. Libby was hers; the only thing that ever was really hers. She loved her baby girl so much.

"Mommy?"

She opened her eyes and realized that Libby was awake and watching her with sleepy eyes. "Go back to sleep, Munchkin," she whispered.

The little girl looked at her inquiringly. "You okay?"

She smiled. "I'm okay. Don't worry, I'm fine. Just wanted to kiss you goodnight, is that okay?" Libby nodded. She smiled and leaned forward to kiss her daughter's forehead. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

She was halfway out of the room when she heard Libby's voice again. "Mommy?"

"What, baby?"

"Can sleep in your bed?"

She hesitated. Libby hadn't asked that for a while, and she really wanted to stop this habit of hers, considering the fact that they were about to go and live with Mark. "Only if it's just for tonight. You're a big girl now, remember?"

Libby nodded. "Just tonight."

"Alright then. Come on." She watched Libby as she slipped into her Piglet slippers and got out of bed. She felt too weak to pick her up so she gave her a hand, and together they went back to her bedroom.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- even though this is a Mark chapter, it is dedicated to the amazing Idina Menzel, for her decision to join the Wicked production in the West End! Pray for me, guys, I missed Anthony Rapp when he was here, which means I _have_ to get London and make my other dream come true. **

**My spring break ends tomorrow so updates may be less frequent… still appreciate reviews though, hint hint. **

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* * *

Chapter 7**

February 4th. He thought the day would never come. But when it finally did, he couldn't stop smiling and humming to himself like an idiot. He was still worried sick about Maureen, but they talked a lot in the last couple of days. She assured him that she was okay, and although he didn't know whether or not to believe her, he knew that once she and Libby would get to New York, everything would be okay.

He started the day in the cemetery, where he laid fresh flowers on his friends' graves. Every time he did that, he couldn't believe how long it's been. He just sat there and talked to them, as if they could listen. He believed they could. He told them about Life, about Maureen and her little girl they never got to know. God, he wished they'd be there. He wished that Roger and Collins would stand beside him when he'd marry her. He could imagine it so clearly; he nearly burst into laughter as the images flashed in his mind, like a film. He'd flash them a victorious smile as Maureen would walk down the isle. That same annoying, teasing smile they always directed towards him. Mimi and Angel could have been her bridesmaids… Angel could have designed her wedding gown of course. He was sure it would have looked beautiful, like nothing anyone ever seen before.

He sighed. Once again, all the what if's and if only's surfaced when he left the cemetery. It felt as if they were haunting him, as if it was his fault that they were gone, as if there was something he could do to turn back time. He wished he could. He wished for it every single day, every time he sat there, watching their graves, thinking how young they all were and how unfair it was. There was nothing he could do to bring them back. But they were all alive in his memories, in his films, in his heart. An eternal flame.

He went back uptown and just wandered around the streets. He took the day off, because he couldn't concentrate in anything anyway. Their flight was not expected until noon, so he still had some hours to kill. He didn't feel like going back home. He got the apartment all ready for them the other night. He had already unpacked most of the things that Maureen sent him from San Francisco. He changed the sheets in his bedroom and put on new ones in Libby's room. He smiled. Today was her birthday. He touched his coat pocket, making sure her gift was still in there. It was. His smile widened. Maureen would kill him if she knew, but he didn't care. He didn't want to get Libby just another doll, because she had tons of those in her new room. He wanted to get her something special.

It's been a beautiful day out. Even though it was cold, it wasn't raining, and even the sun was out. The weather sent many people to the streets, it appeared, because everywhere he went seemed more crowded than usual. As he was passing by a street café, he heard his name being called. He turned and was surprise to see Andy there, waving at him to catch his attention. He didn't see him leave the gallery couple of days before, when the whole mess with Maureen started. He smiled and approached him.

"I thought you looked familiar," said Andy, folding the paper he was reading. "Join me for coffee?"

He glanced at his watch. Yeah, he could sit with Andy for a while. He could use some company. It would make time go faster. "Sure."

A waitress approached them, and he ordered coffee as well. Once she was gone, he looked at Andy. "What are you doing here?"

"Just enjoying the weather, like the rest of New York, it seems. I wanted to contact you about your gallery but it's been crazy couple of days."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"I didn't stay long, suddenly remembered I had to be somewhere. But I liked what I saw."

"I'm glad. Sorry I had to leave so suddenly."

"That's alright."

Soon he got his coffee, and they sat there in silence for a while, watching the passers by and enjoying the winter sun. They talked about Life for a while, and about the benefit that was only several weeks away, but he couldn't stay focused. He kept checking his watch absent-mindedly.

"Do you need to be somewhere?" asked Andy, snapping him back to reality.

He smiled apologetically. "No, not until noon. Sorry."

"You look kind of nervous. Is everything okay?"

"Can't be better," he said, sipping his coffee. As he raised his head, he saw that Andy was looking at him questionably. He was obviously waiting to hear more about it. He sighed. He hated speaking about his private life, but it seemed as if he got himself into it. "I need to pick up my fiancé from the airport later."

Andy looked surprised. "I didn't know you were engaged. I thought that you and Tammy… well, you seem to act like a married couple and all so I thought…"

He laughed. "Yeah, people keep saying that. No, we actually tried that once. We dated couple of times. Didn't work." He looked at Andy thoughtfully. Sure, his original plan was to set her up with Oliver, but… "She made this plan about us marrying one another in case none of us will marry in the next several years. Now I ruined it for her. You know, she's rather cute. I mean, when she wants to."

Andy laughed, as if he guessed what he was up to. "I'm sure she is," he said. Suddenly his expression changed. He looked very sad. "But I wouldn't do that to her."

He hesitated, and then said, "You know, HIV doesn't mean you need to stop living. Otherwise where's the fight? People can keep relationships even with AIDS. Trust me, I've seen it happen. It's possible." He regretted his words the moment he said them. What was he doing? What gave him the right to preach Andy the way he just did? He hardly knew him. He knew _nothing_ about him, as a matter of fact. This was none of his business. And man, did he sound like his mother. Ugh.

"It's not just that," said Andy slowly. He didn't seem offended or anything. Nonetheless, the whole thing made him feel kind of uncomfortable. He didn't want Andy to feel committed to share his private life with him just because he said the wrong thing. He was about to apologize and tell Andy they didn't have to talk about it if he didn't want to, when Andy started speaking again. "I didn't have much luck with relationships so far. My last serious relationship was… wow, years ago. Six, I think. It didn't end well. We just wanted different things." He paused, sipping his coffee slowly. "Besides, most women wouldn't risk having a relationship with someone who has AIDS."

"But not all of them. I'm sure it's only a matter of time. You'll find her when you will least expect her."

"This was how it happened to you?"

He smiled, thinking of that fateful Christmas couple of months ago. "Yeah. This is exactly how it happened to me."

"Then I'm happy for you. Like your people say, Mazel Tov."

He laughed. "Thanks." He glanced at his watch again. With traffic and all, he should get there just in time if he'd leave soon. "I should get going," he said, leaving some money on the table. "I'll see you next week in the meeting, okay?"

"Sure. Enjoy your weekend."

"You too," he smiled, and hurried back to the street to hail a cab.

* * *

He got to the airport later than he expected, but his timing turned out to be perfect, since their flight was delayed. They were just coming out as he got there. There were so many people around that he was afraid he would never notice them when they go out, but then something was wrapped around his legs, almost knocking him down. There she was, his little Munchkin, her eyes shining with excitement, two braids dangling down her shoulders. He smiled as he knelt to pick her up.

"Hey beautiful," he said, giving her a hug.

"Hi daddy!" she giggled. His heart melted and he regretted he didn't get there earlier to buy a balloon for her in the gift shop as he originally planned. She didn't seem tired and cranky as he thought she'd be after the long flight. She looked as fresh as a flower.

"Gimmi a kiss." Libby kissed his nose. He smiled, took the end of one of her braids and tickled her nose with it. "Where's your mommy?"

"There!" said Libby, pointing straight into the crowd. Maureen was walking towards them, a small smile curling on her lips as she moved closer. He put Libby down and approached her, his smile slowly fading. He didn't know what to think. She sounded better over the phone, but looking at her, he realized it wasn't so. She looked bad, worse than he imagined. He had never seen her like that. She was pale, and her make up didn't cover the dark circles around her eyes. Her clothes looked twice her size. He remembered that white cashmere sweater. She wore it the last time they were there on December. Now he couldn't believe it was the same one. She looked like a kid who was wearing her mother's clothes.

She was carrying one bag, and she dropped it on the floor to wrap her arms around him. He hugged her back, holding her close. He could feel her spine and rib-cage through the soft material of her sweater as he rubbed her back. He shivered, suddenly afraid. What the hell was wrong with her?

She must have felt him shivering, because she raised her face to look at him. "Don't. I'm okay."

"Oh my God, Maureen-"

"Mark, please don't."

He touched her face. She looked so fragile. This wasn't Maureen he used to know. Sure, when they lived in the Village, he often had to remind her she should eat, because she had this ridiculous obsession of her being fat, but this? It didn't seem as if she was doing this to herself on purpose. But he didn't want to talk about that there, with all the hustle of the airport, with Libby so nearby. And she looked as if she needed some rest. He took the bag from the floor and picked Libby up again. "Come on, let's get you home."

* * *

They got home fairly quick, and he made them a short tour to show them where was what in the apartment. He showed Libby her room and she seemed to have liked it, which made him smile. She stayed there as he and Maureen continued along the hall. Maureen looked exhausted, and clearly didn't want to talk about everything at the moment, and he didn't argue. He was just so happy to have both of them back. He waited for her to shower and change and then helped her get into bed. He left the room after he made sure she was asleep. Then he went to check on Libby, who was considerably quiet. She was sitting on the carpet in her room, playing with her dolls.

"Hey Munchkin, is everything alright?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. She raised her head to look at him and smiled.

"Everything okay."

"That's good." He was kind of worried about her. Sure, she had a part in Maureen's decision to move back to New York, but kids changed their minds so quickly. Yet Libby didn't seem too disappointed to be taken away from what used to be her home. It sounded so cliché, but she really looked as if she was feeling at home there. "Can I come in?" he asked. He could use some company. She looked as if she did, too. Libby nodded so he walked in, and sat next to her. "So, do you like your new room?"

"Yes. Roger does too."

"That's great."

They sat quietly for a while, and then Libby looked at him in a way he hasn't seen before. "Will mommy be okay?" she asked seriously. His heart broke. He wished he could give her an honest answer.

"I hope so. We'll do what we can to take care of her, won't we?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Today is my birthday," she said kind of sadly. He suddenly remembered he didn't give her the present he got for her.

"I know. You're a big girl now, aren't you? I'll tell you what. We'll go out for dinner when mommy is better, but in the meantime why don't we make something here? Just for us?"

"What we make?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

"Anything you want. We can try to make pizza," he suggested. He only tried to make it once, a long time ago when he invited Tammy for a pizza-movie night. Sure, they ended up calling The Pizza Palace around the corner, but he thought he learnt a thing or two ever since.

Libby looked excited. "Really?"

"Sure, if you want."

She nodded, smiling brightly. "Okay."

"But first, birthday girl, I think I've got something for you," he said, reaching for his pocket. He handed her a small box and smiled. "Happy birthday, sweetie."

Libby slowly took the box from him and looked at it. "Thank you," she whispered, but didn't open it. "This small," she said.

"Open it," he said softly. He watched her as she did. Once again, Maureen's reaction had crossed his mind, but he pushed it away. Libby was almost his daughter too. That was okay.

"This pretty," she said, fascinated. By 'this' she meant a silver necklace with a small heart-shaped locket that had a tiny _Libby_ inscribed on it. He gently took it from her and put it on her neck.

"It has your name on it, too. Remember I taught you how to write it?"

"Yes."

"Maybe I'll teach you how to write other stuff too, like your mommy's name and my name-"

"And Roger's name!" added Libby, laughing.

He smiled. "And Roger's name, of course. This way when you start school, you'll be the smartest girl in class." She no longer looked sad. He stood up and held his hand out for her. "Now come on. Let's try that pizza and then find something nice on TV."

Libby took his hand and stood up, a big smile on her lips. "Okay."

* * *

He walked into his bedroom later to check on Maureen. He got her some dinner and he was determined to make her eat it. She was still asleep though, her hair falling softly on the pillows, her expression angelic, peaceful. She was wearing a small, black T-shirt and plaid red and green pajama pants that kind of reminded him of those shabby old pants Roger was so fond of. As he watched her, he thought that her being there, asleep in what soon would be their bed, was just as it meant to be. He smiled and laid the tray he got for her on the dresser. He approached the bed and sat next to her. Slowly, gently, he touched her cheek. He was still worried about her, but she looked better, even in her sleep. The color got back to her cheeks, as if New York itself had the power to make her better. Please be okay, he thought silently. He hated waking her up but he really thought she should eat. She'd been asleep ever since they got back from the airport.

"Wake up, baby," he whispered, half to her, half to himself.

She stirred, and a shadow of a smile crossed her face. "You called me Baby," she murmured, her eyes still closed.

And only then he realized that he did call Maureen Johnson Baby. Shit. "I didn't realize-" he started, but then his voice trailed off as she slowly opened her eyes, her smile widening.

"You called me Baby."

He nodded. He was so doomed. But at least she looked alright, so he didn't really fear his destiny. "Yes. I did. Please accept my honest apologies." He watched her as she sat up, leaning against the wall. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She looked at the door. "It's quiet, where's Libby?"

"Asleep. Just tucked her in. She was worn out."

"I bet she was. Poor thing. I totally ruined her birthday with sleeping all afternoon."

"Nah, she's fine. We had a great time. We had a special dinner for her birthday. Here, I got you what's left of it."

She smiled. "Thanks." He stared at her carefully. He was expecting resistance. She must have noticed, for she gave him a questioning look. "What?"

"Nothing," he said as innocently as he could. She gave him a look, obviously not buying his attempt to appear innocent. He smiled. He couldn't believe she was finally back. "I missed you."

Her features softened. "I know," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and moving closer to give him a hug. "I missed you too."

He sat there and just held her, slowly rubbing her back, never wanting to let go. Eventually she pulled away but stayed very close. Her hands were still wrapped around his neck, her fingers slowly caressing the back of his neck. He leaned forward to kiss her gently, and only after doing that he realized how much he missed that. He felt her smile against his lips as she kissed him back, slow at first, but with building passion. She laid back down without breaking their kiss and he felt himself being pulled on top of her. Then she pulled away just so that she could take his shirt off. As she did, his glasses slipped and fell on the bed. She threw the shirt over his shoulder and it landed somewhere in the room, but he could care less.

He let his hands drift under her shirt as he started trailing his kisses to her neck. She lost so much weight, he was scared to touch her, as if she would break if he did. He could feel each and every bone on her upper body. He didn't want to hurt her. But she was urging him forward, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He nibbled on her ear, and she made that purring sound at the back of her throat that drove him absolutely crazy, so he did it again. He felt her nails on his back, scratching his skin. His mind was everywhere. He couldn't remember where he kept that pack of condoms he knew he had somewhere in the room.

And then something terrifying occurred to him, and he sat up. "Shit."

"_What_?" asked Maureen as she sat up as well. Her face was flushed, her breath came out in short pants. She gave him an irritated look. "Why the hell did you stop?"

"I just realized something."

She looked at him incredulously. "_Now_? Mark Cohen, get back to what you were doing, that's an order!"

"Wait, Maureen, I… Oh shit. I think I know why you were not feeling well." Now that it entered his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Crap. But if he was right and that was true, then he was the one to blame in all that. She didn't say anything, just sat there, looking at him as he found his glasses and put them back on. He took a deep breath. "When I was in San Francisco we… we weren't exactly careful, if you know what I mean," he said. He could feel he was blushing. Oh damn it. She was still quiet, but her expression told him she had no idea where he was going with this. He huffed, suddenly impatient. How could she not understand? "And now you're pregnant!"

She didn't punch him, she didn't run away screaming, she didn't burst in hysteric tears of grief, she didn't even declare that she would not have a baby no matter what.

Instead, she laughed.

He stared at her, completely shocked. He sure wasn't expecting her to laugh at his face. He couldn't believe it. He was panicked and she was laughing! "How is that funny?"

It took her a while, but then she finally managed to control her laughter. Her eyes were sparkling with tears. "Mark, I'm not pregnant," she said, still smiling.

"How can you be so sure about it?"

"Because I'm on a pill since I had Libby."

"Oh." He was completely speechless. He felt like an idiot. It seemed like the obvious thing.

"And besides, pregnant women gain weight, not lose it," she added, a hint of a smile still visible in her eyes. Then she got serious. "I was just a bit stressed. It's nothing more. If I was pregnant, you would have known. Trust me." She touched his cheek and flashed him a seductive grin, slowly taking off his glasses. "Will you get back here, now?"

"What about that dinner I got for you?" he asked, remembering his initial plans to convince her to eat.

"Leave it…" she murmured against his neck. "Don't make me beg…" Her voice was like velvet, leaving goosebumps on his skin. It made him shiver. He grinned wickedly before he grabbed her wrist and pinned her to the bed. "See, that's more like it," she smiled, but didn't have a chance to say any further when he leaned down, kissing her deeply.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- hi dearies. I apologize for this ridiculously late update, school's been crazy. I'm sure you all understand. I'm gonna steal a line from Mark and sing, "I can't believe a year went by so fast," because today is my first fanfiction anniversary. I thought it was a good opportunity to thank you guys again, especially those of you who follow my stuff ever since the beginning. Yes, letmefly, I'm talking about you. Love you all you guys. Please review. It keeps me sane :)**

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Chapter 8**

Although she has been awake for the past half an hour, she didn't feel like getting up. She snuggled deeper into the warm covers, and just enjoyed the fact she didn't have to hurry up and get ready for work. Mark crawled out of bed in what seemed like hours ago, murmuring something about the gallery. The apartment was quiet, which meant that Libby was either asleep or doing something else that kept her quiet and well-occupied. She smiled. It's been a week since they got to New York. She got back to work on Monday, although now it felt like forever ago. Although she was busy all over her head, moving into Stan's position was easier than she expected. Everyone in the office was so nice and willing to help so everything went pretty smoothly.

After everything that happened during her last days in San Francisco, she took care of herself the best she could. She didn't stay at work longer than necessary, she never missed lunch break, and of course, there was Mark who always made sure she'd eat and rest. Libby's daycare was on the way to her office to she took her there each morning, and Mark picked her up in the afternoon unless he had to teach. It seemed to be working well so far, and they both managed to spend a lot of time with Libby. The only thing that bothered her was that they hardly had a chance to see one another. She was busy with getting familiar with her new job, and Mark was spending hours at Life because of that benefit they were organizing. She was looking forward to that weekend, because it seemed to be the only time they could be with one another without having to be anywhere else, which was why she was so surprised when Mark left that morning.

Only after stepping out of the shower, she noticed a small post-it against the mirror. _Tammy is sick, had to cover for her. Meet me for lunch?_ Reminding herself to give him a call later on, she walked to the window. Sunlight was streaming into the room through the curtains, making her smile. They deserved a little sunshine after a week of snow and cold and blizzards. She pulled the curtains aside and looked out. The sky was crystal clear. It was a beautiful Saturday morning.

"Mommy?" a small voice was heard behind her, shaking her from her reverie. She turned. Standing there or the doorway was her little girl, still in her pajama but wide awake, her bear dangling from one arm. She smiled. "Hey, baby. Come here, look at that."

Libby moved closer and looked through the window. "No snow."

"That's right. No snow. It means we can finally go out for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But first let's get you dressed, and then we'll have some quick breakfast and go out."

"Daddy not coming?" asked Libby, looking around for Mark. She seemed to be expecting to spend more time with him too.

"No, he had to go to work," she said, her thoughts drifting to the post-it that was now on her dresser. Libby looked very sad all of a sudden. "But it doesn't mean we won't have fun, right? Besides, we'll meet him for lunch. I promise," she said, gently pushing Libby out of the room. "Come on, let's make you pretty."

"I'm _always_ pretty!" stated Libby, as if it was the obvious thing.

She laughed. It was scary how much Libby sounded like her. "Is that so? And who told you that, Munchkin?"

"Daddy."

Yeah, leave it for Mark to boost up the girl's ego. She knelt beside Libby and looked at her thoughtfully. Then she smiled. "Hmm. Guess he was right," she said and kissed the girl's nose. "Now gimmi a hug." Libby obeyed, wrapping her small arms around her neck. She held her daughter for a moment, breathing in her scent, and then let go and watched her as she ran to her room, giggling.

* * *

The park was couple of minutes' walk from their apartment. Just like the two of them, there were a lot of people around who probably thought what they did; that it was the perfect day to spend outside. Libby agreed it was better than the park they used to go to when they lived in San Francisco. She got tired of the swings pretty quick, and asked her permission to join couple of kids who were playing nearby. After Libby ran off, she found a bench nearby, where she could still watch Libby wherever she was, and took her cell out of her bag. She decided to call her parents, since they didn't have much time to talk lately. She knew they wanted to come over to see the apartment and make some wedding plans. She and Mark decided to tell them about the situation with his mom before it would get embarrassing.

One ring, and then another… and then she heard her mother's voice. "Hello, you've reached Richard and Elizabeth Johnson. We're not available at the moment. Leave a message and we'll get back to you. Have a lovely day."

"Hey guys, it's me. I just called to ask how were you and say hi. Call me when you get a chance. Love you. Bye." She hung up and dialed Mark's number in the gallery.

"Hello?"

She smiled. "Good morning."

"Hi."

"Busy?"

"Not really, it's still kind of early. Where are you?"

"I took Libby to the park."

"Good, you should be in the sun. Did you eat?"

She laughed. "Yes daddy, I have. When can you leave for lunch?"

"Hmm… around 12:30 I think. There's this cute place not far from here… Can you come here?"

"Yeah. Sure, no problem."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

After they hung up, she occupied herself with going over some wedding gown photos from a magazine her mother sent her several days earlier. She didn't even start looking for a dress yet, mostly because she didn't have the time, but she knew what she wanted so she didn't thing it would be too much of a problem. She wanted something that would be both simple and beautiful. She wanted it to be clean cut, classic, but not exaggerated. She knew she could count on her mother to come up with something tasteful. Her mother always had a great sense of style. Designing was her hobby for years. She had a porcelain doll collection that survived a very bumpy way from England, according to old family legends. She made them little dresses that she designed especially for them.

She flipped through the pages of the magazine, observing each photo carefully. Her mother put little marks for her in there, near some designs she thought were nice. In the short letter she attached to the magazine she said she was still working on a sketch of her own.

As she was looking through the magazine, she started to regret her ability to notice small details. It made everything harder. The dresses she looked at were beautifully designed, but each seemed to have some sort of a flaw. One was too transparent, another had shinning sequins all over, the third's cleavage didn't look appropriate for a wedding. She sighed. It felt as if she'd never find the perfect dress.

She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened. It couldn't be 11:30! She raised her head to look for Libby, and smiled as she located her. She was playing with a boy who looked just a little older than her. He whispered something in her ear and she burst into giggles, then whispered something in his ear. She waved at her, and Libby returned her wave, smiling. The little boy waved at her too. She hated interrupting them, but they should get going or they'd never make it to Mark's gallery.

She put the magazine back in her bag and got up, on her way to get Libby. She didn't notice a man that was going on her opposite direction, until she bumped into him full force. She raised her head in surprise. Where did he come from? She was about to murmur a quick apology and keep on going, but the words froze in the middle of her throat when she realized she knew him. By his expression, it seemed as if he recognized her as well. He stared at her jaw-dropped.

"Benjamin Coffin the Third. The enemy of Avenue A," she said, a small smile curling on her lips.

He seemed to have an inner debate whether or not to return her smile. He looked at her suspiciously, but eventually smiled back carefully. "Miss Maureen Johnson."

"In the flesh." The last time she had seen him was during Mimi's funeral. Her death was kind of unexpected, and caught all of them unguarded. She suffered from a flu that soon turned into pneumonia. She got it really bad. They spent hours by her bedside in the hospital, watching her fight, and miraculously, she was getting better. She died at home, a week after she was discharged from the hospital. One morning, she just didn't wake up. Roger was devastated, in a way she had never seen him before. Not even after April's suicide. He and Benny had a big fight on the morning of the funeral. Roger didn't want to let him in. He punched him and cursed him and it could have been worse if Collins wouldn't have stopped it on time. And then she left… and never saw Benny again. Until now.

She observed him. He hasn't changed much. At least not in external appearance. He wasn't wearing a suit, but a dark green turtleneck and dark jeans. She wondered what he was doing there, in the middle of the crowded amusement park. Then something occurred to her and she flashed him an apologetic grin. "Sorry I bumped into you, by the way."

"That's alright," he said, looking somewhat taken aback by her apology. "Have you lived in New York all this time?"

"No, I just got back. I lived in San Francisco for a while," she said. "How is Allison?"

Again, this seemed to have caught him by surprise. She knew he was expecting her to use Muffy, Roger's ridiculous nickname for Benny's wife. He made it up right after the one and only time Benny brought her to the loft. They all thought it was hilarious, because the name seemed to match her perfectly. Benny, on the other hand, freaked out whenever they called her like that when he was around.

"You know. We have our ups and downs, but she's okay. We're still in New York. Two kids." He looked away suddenly, and nodded towards the little boy Libby was playing with. "That's Scott, my youngest."

Talk about a small world. She smiled. "That's Libby, my eldest."

His jaw nearly dropped as the meaning of what she said quickly sank in. He looked over at the kids again, then back at her. "I'll be damned."

She laughed. "I'm not who I used to be."

"I think none of us is," he said seriously. She could easily tell that just like her and Mark, it was difficult for him too to let go of the past. "I know you'll think it's weird, but do you wanna meet someday? You know, just to talk?"

She smiled. "I'd love that. You can come to our place, I'm sure Mark will-"

His eyes grew big, and she realized what she had just said. "Whoa, wait a second, _what_? _Mark_?" His gaze automatically shifted towards Libby, as if trying to make sure he didn't miss anything.

"He's not her father, Benny. I met him again when I was in town for business around Christmas. We're engaged." She smiled as she realized he was the first to know about it.

He looked at her carefully. "You and Mark," he said slowly.

"Yes."

"Mark Cohen." She nodded, amused by his reaction, yet understanding it at the same time. "Blond hair, blue eyes, glasses? Scarf and camera?"

"Well, not the same scarf and camera, it's been a while you know, but yeah."

He looked stunned for a moment longer before a huge grin formed on his face. "What the hell took you so long?"

"I guess I needed that time to figure it all out," she smiled. Libby was running over to her, Benny's son right on her heels.

"Mommy, we go?"

"Yeah, baby, in a bit." She looked at Benny again. His expression was a mixture of shock and amusement. Eventually he snapped out of it and took a small card from his wallet, handing it to her. She took it with a smile.

"Tell Mark I said hi. And congratulations."

"I will. Thanks. I'll give you a call next week."

"Do that." He knelt next to Libby, who was eyeing him curiously. "Hey, kid. Look after your mom, okay?" Libby giggled, hiding behind her.

She glanced at her watch. "We'd better go."

"Yeah, we should go too. Come on, buddy," said Benny to his son. Then he turned to her again. "It was really good to see you, Maureen," he said, suddenly serious.

She nodded. Although they were never the best of friends, with all their other friends dead and gone, it was sort of like finding a lost family member. "It was really good to see you, too," she smiled, and she and Libby walked away.

* * *

She started working on dinner around 6. Mark was supposed to come back home within an hour, so she thought she'd surprise him. Considering the way he looked when they met for lunch, she knew he would be exhausted by the time he'd get home. When she worked late he made dinner for her. Actually, he also filled a bath for her, but something told her he wouldn't want her to return the favor. The TV in the living room was on, and Libby was wandering between the couch and her room, until she finally decided she wanted to draw some pictures, and went to find sheets of paper in Mark's study.

She took the phone to the kitchen with her since she was still waiting for a call from her parents. She made herself a mental note to give Benny a call the next day. Mark's expression when he heard about her meeting Benny was priceless, but he thought it would be nice to ask Benny and Allison for dinner someday. Benny was okay before he started dating Allison, Mark said. He remembered he was pretty cool when they were roommates at Brown. And if he stayed with her for so long, maybe she wasn't as bad as they remembered her. Besides, they all changed. No reason why she wouldn't change too.

The phone rang just as she lowered the heat of the stove. She picked it up, thinking it was one of her parents calling her back. "Hello?"

"Cindy, dear? How are you? It's mom," said an unfamiliar female voice.

She was about to apologize and tell the woman that she got the wrong number, when it suddenly dawned on her that she knew that voice. She must have dialed the number by accident. She would never have called there on purpose. Plus, she asked for Cindy, which made it obvious she had no intention calling there. Hmm. Maybe it was her opportunity to say a few words for her future mother-in-law. "I'm afraid you've got the wrong number, Mrs. Cohen," she said as calmly as she could.

"Oh? Then how did you know my na-" her voice trailed off as she seemed to realize her mistake. She huffed, clearly unpleased. "Oh. It's _you_," she said coldly.

She closed her eyes. Don't let her get to you, she told herself. This was exactly what she wanted. Don't give it to her. She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes. "Yes. It's me."

There was a short pause before Mrs. Cohen spoke again. "Well, I've obviously dialed the wrong number. Goodb-"

"Wait."

Another pause, and then, "I have nothing to say to you."

"Well, I have some things to say to _you_."

"I have no interest listening to you."

"Why? Because you're afraid of what I have to say?" She regretted the words the moment she said them. She didn't want to come up the rude one. She didn't want to raise her voice. She wanted to prove that woman on the other end that she has changed. "Look. I know what you think about me. But it's been over ten years now." _Forget, regret, or life is yours to miss_. "At least hear my side. That's all I'm asking."

"You will not be able to manipulate me the way you manipulated my son."

Her jaw dropped. She was just trying to be nice! Well, if nasty was what Mrs. Cohen wanted, nasty was what she would get. Two could play that game. Lucky for her, she was a pro. "First of all, I did _not_ manipulate your son; it was his choice as well as mine. And second, you have no right-"

"How dare you? I'm his mother! I have every right!"

"Mark is old enough to make his own choices, don't you think?"

"He's doing a mistake!"

"That's up to him to decide!"

"How can you sleep at night, knowing you caused so much damage already? You're taking my son away from me! You're ruining our family!"

"You're the one who won't make it easier on him!" She was raising her voice again. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down. "Look, it doesn't have to be like that. All I'm asking is a second chance. I don't expect you to like me. Really, I don't. But this is Mark's choice, and even if you can't accept it I think you should at least respect your son's choices. Don't do it for me, do it for Mark."

"I made it clear for Mark and I will make it clear for you as well, because obviously my message didn't get through. I will _never_ allow you or that bastard child of yours into this family."

It felt as if Mrs. Cohen was trying to stab her with an invisible sword. And now not only that she succeeded, but her hit couldn't have been more precise. Mark never told her his mother knew about Libby. Her shock lasted only a few seconds, quickly melting into fury. She could stand any insult, but she would not let that woman speak about her little girl that way. "Leave my daughter out of this!"

"Why? Because you're afraid of what I have to say?" Her own words echoed back at her. Damn that woman, she thought, tears of frustration stinging in the corners of her eyes. "Mark refused to tell me where is the child's father, which only confirmed my suspicions about you. You haven't changed a bit. Only this time you got punished for it. Now, I don't know what game you think you're playing, but you better think twice before you get my son involved in it. I will never accept you into this family. This wedding will not happen, as far as I'm concerned."

"Luckily, it's not up to you to decide," she said coldly. Mark's mother was out of line. "This conversation is over."

"Ten minutes too late."

Only after she hung up, she realized how furious she was. Her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath and leaned against the counter, slowly calming down. She walked over to the sink to splash some cold water on her face. She didn't want to think about what had just taken place, but it echoed mercilessly in her ears. Now everything finally fit together. She remembered Mark's behavior when he got to their hotel room right after talking to his mother. It's been almost three months and he still hasn't told her exactly what happened there. Now she got the chance to hear it herself.

"Mommy?"

She turned, startled. Libby was standing there, with some sheets of paper in her hand. She walked over to her, suddenly panicked. Did she hear any of this? "What is it, sweetie?"

"Can we read now?" asked Libby.

"I haven't finished making dinner yet, baby. Why don't you wait until Mark gets home, and you could read with him, okay?" She was too tensed to do that right now. And she knew she couldn't hide it from Libby. This little one always sensed when something was wrong. It was as if she had a sixth sense or something. And dinner wasn't even close to ready because of that damn phone call. Then she caught a glimpse of the papers Libby held. Printouts of some sort. "Libby, where did you get this?"

"Found it in Daddy's room," was the girl's quiet reply.

She sighed. Oh great. "What? Munchkin, you're not supposed to touch the papers Daddy keeps in his study, you know that."

Suddenly, Libby looked very guilty. Her bottom lip started quivering almost immediately. "I'm sorry."

Her heart sank. She didn't mean to snap at her like that. It's just that Mark had some important stuff there, and that conversation with his mother didn't do her good at all. She knelt next to her daughter and moved a lock of her off her face. "Sweetie, don't cry. I didn't mean to scare you," she said softly. "Give me the papers and I'll put them back on Daddy's desk, okay?" Libby nodded, silently handing her the papers. Her eyes flipped over the title line as she took them from Libby. Then she did a double take.

She instantly realized that there were some other things Mark wasn't telling her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

The first thing he thought of when he saw Libby and Maureen enter the gallery was, it couldn't be 12:30! A quick glance at his watch told him that it was. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. It was the longest Saturday ever. There weren't many visitors in the gallery, which was surprising for a Saturday morning, and that made him bored and even more tired that he actually was. The previous week was hectic. He kept running around between the gallery and classes and Life and Libby… He was so looking forward for that weekend.

When the phone rang that morning, he thought it wasn't real. It sounded so distant… and hell, so early in the morning. But then he opened his eyes and realized it was still ringing. Damn the person who wakes me up on Saturday morning, he thought as he reached blindly for the phone. He hardly recognized Tammy's voice. She said she had a really bad cold, so he agreed to cover for her without even thinking about it. For all those times she covered for him for smaller things, he thought he owed her as much. So he left the bed in spite of Maureen's sleepy protest, and left her a short note to explain where he went.

The gallery was deserted in the first couple of hours after he opened, so he made some phone calls and went over some stuff. Then Oliver called and made sure he remembered their Life meeting that afternoon. And the truth was that he did forget, but said nothing about it to Oliver. It turned out that they had several things to discuss, one of them concerning the benefit that was only a week away. And now, over the phone, he heard for the first time that there were problems with the date they set, so they'd probably have to postpone the whole thing in a week or two.

When Maureen called half an hour later, there were two people in the gallery. Unbelievable, he thought as he looked around. It looked like a beautiful day out there, so that probably wasn't the reason for people's absence. They had visitors in worst weather. Much worse. He assumed that the sunshine tempted everyone to spend the day out. Maureen hung up, and her promise to be there at 12:30 gave him something to look forward to. The idea of closing earlier crossed his mind, but then he remembered he'd have to be at Life anyway, so there was really no point.

He called Tammy, who sounded really bad, and asked her if she needed anything. He felt really sorry for her. She didn't get sick very often, but when she did, she got it bad. He decided to stop by at her place before his Life meeting.

* * *

Libby ran over to him and gave him a huge, crushing hug. He laughed and picked her up, sitting her on the front counter. God, how much he needed that hug. 

Maureen approached them, a slight frown clouding her expression. "Libby, what did we say about running in here?"

"Oh, that's okay, Mo. There's no one here anyway."

Maureen seemed to notice it just then. She looked around, and then back at him. "Where is everyone?"

He shook his head. "I dunno. Either they decided they were better off at the park, or someone spread the rumor it's me that's working today and not Tammy."

"How is she?"

"She doesn't sound too hot. I'll go see her later." As he said it, he looked at Maureen. He was so relieved to notice that she looked better. She was still impossibly skinny, but it's been only a week. He was watching her carefully, and he knew she was making efforts to watch herself as well after what happened in San Francisco. Gaining her weight back was only a matter of time. But she did look good. Her eyes were shinning, her skin looked slightly tanned from the morning sun. He smiled at her. He wanted so badly to kiss her, knowing it'd have the same affect on him as Libby's hug, but he didn't. He had this thing against couples who had to display their never-ending love for the entire world to see. And he knew that Maureen shared this opinion with him. It didn't matter that there was absolutely no one in the gallery at the moment. He took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. "How about you? How was your day at the park?"

"It was fun!" said Libby. He was so happy that she loved New York. He was afraid she'd change her mind.

"Yeah, it was. You won't believe who I met," said Maureen.

"Who?" he asked, taking Libby off the counter. He turned off the lights and walked with them towards the door.

"Let's find someplace to sit at and I'll tell you. I'm starving." As far as he knew, a starving Maureen was definitely a good sign. He nodded his agreement, and after he finished locking up they went out to the street.

He could definitely understand why people didn't visit the gallery all morning. It was an amazing day. Not a single cloud in the sky. Libby was skipping happily several steps ahead, turning to them from time to time and urging them to hurry up. They walked slowly, silently, but he didn't care. He let the warmth of the sun wash over him. It felt so good, after a week of nonstop snow. When he first got to New York he couldn't get enough of the snow. He loved it. Back at Scarsdale, his mother never let him go out and play in the snow, so when he got to New York and it first started snowing, no one in New York was as happy as he was. But then there came a time when he started to associate the snow with death and loss, when he started losing his best friends one by one.

"Mark?" That is, until Christmas two months ago, he reminded himself as he opened his eyes to meet Maureen's concerned gaze. "You okay? You just stopped walking."

"I'm okay. Oh look, here we are," he said, leading them towards a small, Italian restaurant on the sidewalk.

* * *

"So who did you meet in the park?" he asked once their waiter disappeared with their orders. 

Maureen smiled mysteriously. "Benny," she said, raising her glass to her lips.

He put his own glass back on the table and watched her closely, waiting for her to laugh in his face for believing her. "You didn't."

"I did. Ask Libby, she played with his son."

He looked at Libby, hoping that she wouldn't cooperate with her mother, but he was shocked when she nodded. So Maureen wasn't lying. She did meet Benny. Wow. He didn't hear from Benny for years. He was still in touch with him when Collins died, but then he and Allison left New York for a while, and they lost contact. It was funny to think that it was Maureen, of all people, who met him after all this time. Those two never got along. "How is he?"

"He's good. He looks happy. His kid is cute." She hesitated, but then looked at him. "I invited them to come over someday. It's okay, isn't it?"

He couldn't believe his ears. _She_ was asking _Benny_ to come over? But then he realized what she probably had when she thought about it. He was the only part of their past that still existed. "Of course it's okay," he said. He thought about the first time he met Benny, when they were roommates at Brown. He couldn't help but smile. He always felt so pathetic, living in Benny's shadow. "You know, he wasn't that bad. When we went to Brown he was actually kind of cool. Used to give me fashion tips, dating advices…" Maureen raised one eyebrow, clearly amused. "It's when he started working for Allison's father when things started to get ugly."

"Well, maybe he changed. We did."

"_You_ did." God, how much she changed.

"You did, too," she smiled. "So I'll give him a call and ask them for dinner or something."

Only then he realized what was implied from what she was saying, and he looked at her questionably. "Did you tell him about… us?"

"Completely by accident. From some reason he found that funny."

"I'll say," he laughed. He still remembered Benny's first reaction when they started going out back then. He knew he'd never forget his expression; a combination of repulsion, confusion and awe. It was the first time when he didn't feel so pathetic in his friends' presence. He smiled. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to meet him again.

* * *

"We'd better go home," said Maureen as they got to the gallery couple of hours later. He looked at her sorrowfully. He'd give anything to head home with them, but he still had a lot to do. 

"Mommy," said Libby all of a sudden, pulling at Maureen's arm, looking at her urgently.

Maureen knelt beside the little girl, who whispered something in her ear. She smiled. "It's the last door down that hall over there. You'll be okay by yourself, baby?"

"I will," said Libby, already halfway down the hall to the bathroom.

They exchanged a smile and he led her to the back of the gallery, where his office was. He didn't close the door so that Libby could find them later. Maureen looked at him a bit concerned. "You look tired."

"Nah, I'm okay," he said, wrapping his arms around her. She shot him a seductive look and leaned forward to kiss him. He put a finger on her lips. "Libby's in the other room."

She smiled and kissed his nose. "What did you think I was going to do?" she asked innocently.

He shook his head. The Tango Maureen all over again. "You're teasing."

"No… just giving you something to look forward to," she whispered, winking, just as Libby returned.

* * *

"Hey, I'm back!" he called as he closed the door and locked it behind him. He took off his coat with a sigh of relief. It was beginning to be cold again outside once the sun set, but not here. It felt as if the heat was on. Libby ran over to him and he smiled and picked her up. "Hi there! Do I know you?" he joked, kissing her cheek. He looked over her shoulder. No sign of Maureen. "Mo?" 

"I'm in here!" was her answer, coming from the kitchen. Then after a few seconds, her head peeked out. "Good, you're back. Just in time." But he could sense it right away. Something was wrong. There was something in her tone… only he wasn't really sure what it was. He shrugged as he put Libby down. Maybe he was imagining things. Libby pulled his arm, shaking him from his reverie. He took her hand and they went over to the dining table together.

* * *

Maureen hardly said two words to him at dinner, but he dismissed it because they could never talk much when Libby was around. He told her that Tammy felt a little better, and that they postponed the Life benefit in two weeks. He wasn't even sure she heard a word of what he said. He glanced at her every now and again, but if she noticed him doing it, she ignored it. She was silent and distant. What the hell was going on? 

As soon as dinner was over, she got up, took some of the dishes and headed for the kitchen.

"Do you need help with that?" he asked, getting up.

"No thanks, I got it," she said shortly, not even looking at him. She disappeared before he could say another word. Something weird was going on.

"Libby, go to your room and pick out something we can read together, okay? I'll be there in a minute." He watched Libby as she disappeared down the hall. Then he took some plates and followed Maureen into the kitchen.

"What's going on?" he asked.

She turned, looking a bit startled it seemed. As if she didn't expect him to follow her there. "Nothing is going on. Can you please make sure that Libby is ready for bed while I'm finishing up here?"

"Yeah…" he said slowly, looking at her carefully. It was obvious that she was lying. Something was definitely going on. "I can finish up here if you wa-"

"-I said I got it, Mark," she cut him off abruptly, in that tone he hasn't heard for years. There was something very cold and distant in her eyes. Now he was beginning to panic. But whatever was bothering her, he knew better than piss her off even more. So he left the dishes on the counter and went to Libby's room.

* * *

"… _They both got up and left the tea things on the table, and Mr. Tumnus once more put up his umbrella and gave Lucy his arm, and they went out into the snow. The journey back was not at all like the journey to the Faun's cave; they stole along the way as quickly as they could, without speaking a word, and Mr. Tumnus_-" 

As he raised his head from the book, he suddenly noticed Libby was fast asleep, her breaths deep and even, her little hand clutching her teddy-bear. He smiled and slowly closed the book, placing it on the nightstand. He sat there and watched her for a few seconds before he leaned over to kiss her forehead, turned off the lamp on her bedside and left the room quietly.

The apartment was quiet. The sound of running water had stopped, which meant that Maureen was no longer in the kitchen. He wouldn't let her get away with it. He couldn't stand it when she avoided him like that. Everything was fine several hours ago when they met for lunch. He wondered what was wrong.

He found her in their bedroom, sitting in front of the mirror, staring at nothing. He closed the door and approached her, gently laying his hands on her shoulders. He felt her tense. It took her three more seconds to get up and move away from him, to the other end of the room.

"Maureen-"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Don't wanna talk about what? Will you at least tell me what the hell is wrong?"

She snorted. "Because we don't hide things from one another. We tell each other everything, don't we?" There was a kind of mockery in the way she said it. And now that he looked more closely he saw pain in her eyes. This realization caught him completely by surprise because she never let anything and anyone get to her. What happened that hurt her so much?

"Maureen…" he started, slowly moving towards her. He made sure she wouldn't have anywhere to go. He cornered her, her back against the wall near the window. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I feel like I did something to you that I shouldn't have done… and if I hurt you, I think I should know about it so I can at least apologize," he said it gently, hoping she'd calm down.

Before he knew it, a single tear slid down her cheek. Then another… and then another. She pushed him away and walked towards the door. "I'm fine."

He hurried after her, quickly grabbing the doorknob before she'd try to do the same and leave the room. "No, you're not! Stop lying to me, Maureen, stop pretending that everything's okay!"

"Why, am I not doing it well enough, Mr. Filmmaker-slash-Director? I thought I was a pretty good actress." He just stared at her as she sat on their bed. What was she talking about? But before he had a chance to ask her that, she looked at him again. "How could you hide it from me?"

"What?"

She shook her head. "Oh, yeah, I forgot. _You_ are the expert of pretending, after all."

"Maureen, come on, I don't you what are you-"

"Cut the crap, Mark. I found the papers."

"You found what pa- Oh." Shit. Oh God. This was _not_ how she was supposed to find out about him wanting to adopt Libby. No wonder she was pissed at him. Now he realized it was betrayal that he saw in her eyes. He sighed and sat on the bed next to her. He took her hand gently in his. She didn't try to back away. "I wanted to tell you. I intended to tell you back then when I came over to visit you in San Francisco. Things didn't really work as I planned. I should have told you earlier, but…" his voice trailed off. He knew that her reaction was totally his fault. He didn't even care that the fact she knew about the papers meant that from some reason, she went over his stuff. He knew she would never invade his privacy that way on purpose. She must have had a reason to go into his study. And the papers were just there on the desk. He _should_ have told her before; it's just that he never found the time. There was always something else that had to be done.

There was a short silence, and then she looked at him, her eyes still shining with tears. "Just tell me one thing. Are you doing this because this is what you want, or because you feel like getting back at your mom?"

"_What_? How can you say that? What does my mom have to do with it?"

"She has everything to do with it! Don't you realize how it looks like?"

She didn't know he discussed the possibilities of adoption with his lawyer before he even broke the news to his mom. In other circumstances it would have looked just as she suggested, as if he was doing this just for some sort of stupid revenge, but didn't she know him? Didn't she trust him enough to know he'd never do that?

He looked at her seriously. "Maureen, listen to me. I will _never_ use Libby to get back at my mom. I want to adopt her because I love her, because I want to be her father as much as I want to be your husband. It has _nothing_ to do with my mother." His gaze never left hers as he spoke. He hoped it sounded at truthful as it felt. She still looked kind of doubtful, though, which made him kind of frustrated. How could she not believe him? Unless… "There's another thing, right? Something else that bothers you?" She hesitated, but then slowly nodded and looked away, silent tears still running down her face. He touched her face gently. "Tell me what happened."

"Your mom called," she said quietly, raising her eyes to meet his.

Oh shit. Now he realized why she looked so wrecked. He didn't even think about why his mother suddenly decided to call his apartment after she made it clear she didn't want to talk to him ever again. It didn't matter; the damage was done either way.

Before Maureen could resist, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Surprisingly, she didn't try to pull away. He felt her tears soaking through his shirt as she cried silently. It wasn't hysterical; more as if she held it inside for so long that she just had to let it out of her system. He felt the fury growing within him. If this was his mother's doing… "What did she say to you?"

"Exactly what she told you, I guess, only you never bothered to share it with me. If you did, at least I could have been prepared when she threw it all at me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, rubbing her back. Every word stung, but he felt as if he deserved it. "I thought I was protecting you. I wasn't expecting her to call here and tell you all those things herself."

"I don't even know why I care. I shouldn't care. I knew what she was thinking, it's not like it was a big surprise, it's just… listening to her saying it…"

He felt so hopeless. He hated that his mother had the ability to get to her like that, although Maureen was just as strong. He could only guess that his mother's attack included Libby somehow. It was the only reason he could think of for Maureen to become so vulnerable. He should have warned her that his mother knew about Libby. "Shh…"

"I'm sorry. I know it's stupid to cry about it, I'm just-"

"Shh. That's okay. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that she knew about Libby. I didn't even mean to tell her, it just slipped. And about those papers-"

"I know you would never have done it to get back at her," she said, her tone softening. "I don't know what made me say it."

"Please don't let my mom do that to you," he asked seriously.

She laughed in spite of her tears. "That's the weirdest thing! I never let anyone do that to me! But the way she dared talking about Libby… If she was here I could have killed her."

"I know. I'm sorry you had to go through this."

"I'm sorry I was a bitch earlier. It just caught me really off-guard."

"That's okay. I just wanted it to be a surprise."

She smiled. "Mark, please. No more surprises, no more secrets."

He nodded and raised his finger to wipe her tears. "Alright. No more surprises, no more secrets."

"Promise?"

He leaned forward to kiss her gently. Sealed with a kiss, he thought as he locked his gaze with hers. "Promise."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I _should_ be rereading Hamlet for tomorrow's Shakespeare's midterm, but well, I feel too lazy to do that… A deadly combination of another hectic week and a slight writers' block in the end of this chapter is the cause for another late update, sorry about that you guys. Let me know what you think! Have a good weekend everyone!**

**

* * *

Chapter 10 **

"Mark?"

She walked into the living room, only to find it deserted. Mark was nowhere to be seen. She had just put Libby to bed, and left the room after she made sure the girl was fast asleep. He wasn't in their bedroom, because she passed through there after leaving Libby's room. The kitchen area was dark, and the sliding door to the balcony was closed and locked. She glanced at her watch. Benny and Allison were supposed to get there in less than half an hour.

Then she heard muffled voices from Mark's study and headed there. He was on the phone. She knocked lightly on the door and peeked inside. He turned in his chair and flashed her a smile, but she could tell it wasn't real. And he was kind of distracted at dinner earlier, too. Something was bothering him.

"-sure, I'll call tomorrow. Call me if you need anything, okay? Alright. Bye, good night." He hung up with a sigh.

"What happened?" she asked, walking into the room. She loved that room. It was warm and cozy, and it always gave her this feeling, like going back home. It kind of reminded her of her father's study in Jersey, only her father never had so many video tapes and old film reels in a carton box. She took a seat on the sofa that was along one wall and watched Mark as he got up and went over to sit next to her.

"There's this guy in Life. He recently moved to New York. We kind of became friends. I'm worried about him."

"Why?" she asked, taking his hand. Her finger traced the lines along the inner side of his palm.

"He's HIV+. He seemed to be okay for a while, but in our meeting three days ago he complained that he wasn't feeling well. And then he didn't show up to the meeting today and I thought…" his voice trailed off and he looked away. Then he took a deep breath and looked at her again. His expression broke her heart. "It was the same nightmare all over again."

She nodded. She understood. They've lost so many friends for AIDS already. She could only imagine how it felt for him, watching all of them go, one by one. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he just had to stay longer at work and missed the meeting. But you know, for a second I thought he was…" his voice trailed off again. He looked so upset. She knew he was thinking about Collins and Roger. Sometimes she wondered how it was like in their last days, but she never dared asking. She sensed it was an open wound still. It would take some time for it to heal. Hell lot of time. "Anyway, I just had to call and make sure he was okay."

She nodded. "Are you all set for that benefit?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Is it really okay with your mom and dad to take Libby?"

"Mom said that it was. My dad is all excited," she smiled. The plan was that her parents would come to New York for a day or two the following week, and take Libby to spend the weekend with them in Jersey. That way they wouldn't have to worry about finding her a babysitter when they went to the Life event. She raised her head to face Mark. He still looked kind of distracted. She squeezed his hand gently. "Hey… stop it. I'm sure he's gonna be okay."

He nodded, but she could tell that he didn't mean it. "I wish you could meet him. He's such a great guy."

"I will, next Saturday," she smiled. "Now come on. Smile. Benny and Muffy should be here any second," she said with a note of humor in her voice.

"Allison, Maureen," he corrected, a shadow of a smile definitely visible beneath his frown.

"I'll try to keep it in mind when they'd get here," she said, just as the doorbell rang.

* * *

It was kind of strange in the first half an hour. Mark and Benny started talking almost immediately. She joined their conversation every now and again, but Allison remained quiet. She looked hesitant when she and Benny walked into the apartment, but both her and Mark were doing their best to be nice to her, to make her feel comfortable. They decided that if Benny could stay with her for all this time, there was something about her they probably missed back then. 

She seemed to be very unsure about all that. She sat on the sofa next to Benny as he talked about his currents work, and looked around her, as if trying to figure out if coming there was right. She looked distant and distracted. Then Mark asked her something, as if he sensed her hesitations as well. Her tone wasn't cold or snobbish or anything when she answered him. She was amazed when she realized that Allison sounded kind of scared.

They seemed to be getting along pretty good, Benny and her. She was sitting on an armchair across from them and noticed how Benny took Allison's hand absent-mindedly and laced his fingers with hers as he talked. There was something really sweet and intimate about this gesture, something that was so un-Benny like, but still sweet. She turned her gaze away, suddenly embarrassed because it was obviously not meant for her eyes. Her gaze shifted towards Mark, who was laughing at something Benny was saying. He looked better, less upset than an hour ago. She hoped everything would work out for his friend.

"So did you two set a date yet?" asked Benny.

"We keep changing it," laughed Mark. "But probably April."

Benny shook his head. "This is so surreal. Can you imagine what Collins would have said?"

"He would have said he knew all along," she said with a small, sad smile. She missed Collins so much.

Benny nodded. "Yeah, he would probably-"

"Mommy?"

She looked away from Benny to see Libby, walking slowly into the living room. From the corner of her eye she noticed Allison, who looked at Libby as well. In an instant, her features softened. It was amazing; like sort of a magic. She looked transfixed.

"What is it, Munchkin? Did you have a bad dream?"

"Yes. Someone under the bed," said Libby, clutching her teddy-bear to her chest.

Mark smiled. "So we'd better go and tell him to go away," he said, getting up. "I'll be right back," he said as he picked Libby up and disappeared in the hallway.

They sat in silence, and then suddenly, Allison turned to look at her. "She's adorable," she said softly.

There was something in her expression… she couldn't quite place it, but it was definitely there. Pain? Loss? She wasn't sure. She smiled anyway, pretending she didn't notice it. She was sure of one thing. It wasn't meant for her to notice. "Thank you."

"How old is she?"

"She just turned 5." She didn't tell Benny anything when they met in the park, when he assumed quite naturally that Libby was Mark's. It didn't seem right to tell them the whole story at the moment. So instead, she smiled and said, "You should come over with your kids someday; it looked like they got along pretty well in the park."

"Yeah, they did," smiled Benny.

Mark reentered the room. "The crisis is over," he smiled and sat back down.

"So you're getting two at the price of one, huh?" Benny asked Mark, who laughed.

"Yeah, something like that."

"If she's anything like her mother, you're in big trouble."

She frowned. Same old Benny. "Thank you, Benny." She looked at Allison. Her features seemed softer now; she looked calmed, as if Libby's appearance somehow managed to break the ice. "How old are your kids?"

"Ben is 9 and Scott is 6."

"Ben as in Benjamin Coffin the Forth?" she asked, rolling her eyes jokingly.

Allison laughed and nodded. "Couldn't stop him," she said, looking at Benny, who shrugged.

"What, it's a family tradition," he said defensively. They all laughed. This time, Allison joined them.

* * *

Another week started and ended before she had a chance to blink. It was finally Thursday, and she was already late for meeting her mother. They were supposed to go dress-hunting. Ugh. She hated the idea. Usually she loved shopping, especially with her mom, but the thought of looking for the perfect wedding gown made her nervous. So far, in every magazine and catalogue her mother sent her, she couldn't find anything she really liked. 

She called Mark and made sure he remembered he had to pick up Libby from daycare, and then she left her office, feeling like a school-girl that skipped the last class. It was the first time she allowed herself to take the afternoon off. It was 1PM when she went out of the building, and the City seemed to be more packed than it usually was. She made her way to the hotel her parents were staying at. They got to town several hours ago, and she was looking forward to spending the next two days with them.

Her mother was waiting for her in the lobby. She smiled as she noticed her sitting there, elegant as ever. Ever since she was a little girl, she adored her mother's style. This was why she decided to do this dress-hunt with her mom, and not with anyone else.

"Mom, hey," she smiled as the older woman got up and walked over to her.

"Hello, darling," said her mother, giving her a hug. Then she stepped back to observe her more closely. Her eyebrows knotted together. Oh-uh. She knew what was coming next. "Mark doesn't feed you, I presume?" she asked lightly, as if to pretend it didn't bother her. Her expression was serious though.

She laughed. "I lost some weight. Mark feeds me well enough to get it back. It's just stress, I'm okay." She never told her parents about her breakdown at San Francisco. She thought that they were better off without knowing all that.

Her mother still looked suspicious though. "Alright… you know what I think about you losing weight though."

She shook her head. "Mom, it's nothing like that, I promise. Are you ready to go?"

"I am. I made a list of some places I know. We can start there," she said, taking a small note out of her purse. So damn organized, she thought smiling. She knew she could trust her mother.

"Oh, how's dad doing?" she asked as they left the hotel, back to the afternoon chill.

"He's resting. I left him your address and he'll meet us there for dinner." The plan was that her parents would join them for dinner that day. Mark had an evening off so he said he'd do the cooking so that she could go with her mom uninterrupted.

* * *

They spent hours going from shop to shop, following her mother's list. They were looking through thousands of catalogues and she tried on about dozen dresses, yet they came out with nothing. Nothing seemed to fit. Just as she expected, it wasn't fun at all. But she was grateful to have her mother's support. Without her, she would easily give up. They decided to take a break and headed for a small café nearby. 

"So, are you excited?" her mother asked, smiling, once they got their coffee.

She laughed. "I don't think I have time to get excited."

"Mark is. I could see it that evening when we came to visit you."

She looked at her mother seriously. The conversation with Mark's mother couple of weeks before left her kind of insecure. She knew she was being silly, but she just had to ask it. She had to make sure once again that they were not making a terrible mistake. "Is it really okay with you guys? This whole wedding thing?"

The question seemed to have caught her mother by surprise. She hesitated, and then asked seriously, "You love him, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"And you want to marry him. So why wouldn't we be okay with it?"

"It's just that…" God, how could she tell her everything about Mark's mom? "There are other people who are… less supportive."

"Like Mark's parents?"

She stared at her mother speechless. She didn't say a word about his mom yet; how could her mother possibly know? She sighed. "Mark's father is no longer in the picture, he passed away. It's his mom who has some problems with us. With _me_."

"She always had, isn't that right? I remember you mentioned it when you met his parents."

"She did, but I kind of thought she'd get over it by now. I mean it's been over 10 years. People change. And I hate being the one who keeps Mark away from his family. I don't wanna be the bad one."

"I don't see a reason you'll have to be the bad one. Did you try and talk to her yourself?"

She shook her head. It was still kind of painful. "That wasn't pretty. It's even worse than what it was back then… because of Libby."

She didn't say more, but her mother seemed to understand. "She doesn't know about you're being divorced?"

"No, I don't think Mark had a chance to tell her. As I understood, she thinks Libby was an accident. She said that she was my punishment."

Her mother shook her head sorrowfully. She knew how much her little girl meant to her, what she went through to have her. Libby was everything _but_ her punishment. "Oh, Maureen-"

"That's okay. I don't care about her. It just bugs me because it was so important to Mark that she'd accept us. He didn't want to do all this without her consent."

"And what does he want to do now?"

"I won't force this marriage on him, if that's what you're implying, Mom."

"Oh, darling, of course not. This is not what I meant. It's just…" Her mother hesitated, but then said, "Your father and I are just worried about you, after what happened… well, before." Her mother could never bring herself to say his name again after he walked out of their life for good. They were always over-protective, but it seemed to intensify after she signed the divorce papers, and later even more, when she had Libby. "I just want to make sure this time will work better, for both Libby and you."

"I think it will. I know it will." She smiled. They already set an appointment with Mark's lawyer so haste the procedure of adoption. There wasn't a lot to do, actually. Libby's biological father was out of the picture, so her signature was basically all they needed. "We're signing the adoption papers next week."

Her mother's eyes grew big. She didn't have a chance to tell them yet. Everything happened so fast. "What adoption papers?"

"Mark wants to adopt Libby. I guess that answers your question whether or not it'll work better."

"We'll see." Her mother sipped her coffee, and then sighed. "So what are we going to do about this dress?"

"Why can't I just wear jeans and get it over with?"

"Maureen Lorna Johnson, you will _not_ walk down the aisle in jeans," said her mother sternly. "We'll find a dress. I can promise you that."

* * *

She couldn't believe how fast her mother's promise was fulfilled. They found a dress in the next shop they went into. She didn't really like it in the catalogue they were first looking at, but her mother insisted. And now, staring at her reflection in the mirror, she understood why. She couldn't believe it was her wearing it. It was as if the dress was made for her. It was beautiful beyond words. 

She was alone in the dressing room. Her mother was somewhat disappointed when she asked her to wait outside, but she felt that this was something she had to do on her own first. The room was fairly big, and all the walls were covered with mirrors so her image was reflected back at her from every possible direction. She just stood there, watching herself, thinking how different it was from the first time. Since she lived so far away when she first married, her parents weren't involved with all the preparations. They flew to San Francisco several days before the wedding and that was that. But now… she smiled as she messed with the dress' full skirt, turning around just to feel how it swished around along with her. This was so different. And it would be different. There would be no mistakes this time.

"Maureen?" She turned, startled, at the sound of her mother's voice. She was standing in the entrance to the dressing room, and gasped as she caught sight of her. "Oh my God. You look beautiful."

"Thanks, Mom," she smiled, suddenly shy.

The lady who helped them with the catalogues suddenly appeared from behind her mother's shoulder. "Aw, look at you. The prettiest bride I had here today. This dress looks perfect on you." Weird. She didn't sound as phony as those sale-ladies always sounded. She sounded as if she really meant it.

"So what do you think? Are we taking it?" her mother asked.

"I think…" she laughed nervously. It suddenly dawned on her what it all meant. She and Mark were about to get _married_. "I think I'm beginning to get excited about this wedding."

Her mother laughed. "As you should. Congratulations, darling," she added, kissing her cheek and giving her a hug. When she pulled away, she had that practical expression on. "Now that we solved this crisis, let's move on to plan B."

"I didn't know that we had a plan B."

"Of course we had. We need to find a dress for Libby as well."

She groaned jokingly. "Oh no, here we go again…" She looked at her reflection once more, slowly turning in front of the full-length mirror. "Can I just… keep it on for couple more minutes?"

"Of course," said her mother, a small, knowing-all smile curling on her lips.

* * *

Several hours later, they were on their way home. She opened the door and let her mother come in. She looked around and then at her, giving her an approving nod. Something smelled really good in the kitchen, and an unfamiliar song was playing in the background, so she assumed Mark didn't hear them when they came in. A tweed jacket was folded on the arm-rest of the couch. That meant only one thing. And indeed, seconds later, her very breathless father came dashing into the living room, chasing Libby, who was giggling madly. Then she seemed to notice her grandmother, and stopped on her tracks in the middle of the room. 

"GRANDMA!" she squealed, launching herself at the older woman, who wrapped her in her arms.

"Hello, sweetheart. What have you done with your grandfather?" she asked, raising her head to give her husband a look.

He shrugged. "She wanted to play," he said defensively. He turned to look at her, and smiled. "Maureen."

She laughed and gave her father a hug. "Hey, Daddy." Then she noticed Mark over her dad's shoulder. He was standing there, between the kitchen and the living room, with a small towel dangling from one shoulder. He walked into the living room as she let go of her father.

Her mother seemed to notice him just then. Her features softened, and she approached him. "Mark. Good to see you again."

"Hi, Mrs. Johnson."

"'Mrs. Johnson'? Oh, no. You're marrying my daughter, no need to be so formal. You're a part of the family now. Call me Elizabeth."

Mark's cheeks turned slightly pink as he nodded. "Okay. I will." He looked over his shoulder and smiled apologetically. "I left some stuff in the oven, I'd better…" his voice trailed off. Her mother, who seemed to be impressed by the fact he was actually cooking, nodded in approval. Mark smiled, murmured a quick apology, and hurried back to the kitchen.

"So did you have any luck finding a dress?" asked her father.

"Yeah, thank God, we did," she smiled, her thoughts drifting back to the beautiful dress they left behind. There were small stuff that needed to be done before she'd take it, so they left it with the shop's seamstress and she was about to pick it up within a month.

Her mother looked around once again. "This is a very nice apartment, by the way."

"You can see the park from my room!" said Libby, pulling at her grandmother's arm.

"Is that so? Why don't you show me around, little one?"

"If grandpa comes too."

"Of course he will."

Her parents disappeared down the hall with Libby on their lead. She watched them go and then walked towards the kitchen. Mark stood with his back turned to her and the music was still on, coming from a small radio-set on the counter, so he didn't hear her when she approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "No 'hi' for me?" she murmured, her lips grazing his neck.

His heart skipped a beat. Although his back was turned to her, she saw the small smile that curled on his lips. "Your parents were right there," he said without looking back.

"Well, I don't see them now, do you?" she asked, her hand slowly drifting down. He swallowed, hard, and caught her hand before it reached the top button of his pants.

"You'll make your mom kick me out of the family after she said I was a part of it. Not to mention the fact that your dad looks strong enough to kick my ass if I-"

"As I said, they're not here, so you're safe." He hesitated, and then slowly turned to face her, leaning against the counter. She smiled. "Hi."

"How was your day?" he asked casually, gently pushing her backwards. It was a weird feeling, kind of like falling with no real end; as if her back would soon hit something behind her and she'd never know until it would be too late.

"It's hard to do this backwards," she noted.

Mark smirked. "You should try it in heels."

She looked at him strangely. "How would _you_ know?" He smiled but said nothing. It took her a while to realize he was directing her towards the fridge. Well, it wasn't until she was pinned against the fridge when she realized that.

"So how was your day?" he asked again, leaning down to kiss her neck. She closed her eyes, her mind slowly emptying itself of thoughts as she breathed in the scent of his aftershave. Sweet, a bit spicy, addictive.

"What are you doing?" she murmured, eyes still closed. She should stop him, she knew. Her father was definitely capable of kicking his ass if he'd walk in on them like that, no matter that both of them were almost 35.

"Just making light conversation," he said innocently, his hands drifting to her waist.

"You're bad…" she whispered seductively.

"I didn't do anything."

She repressed a giggle as he leaned down to kiss her again. She leaned back against the fridge and closed her eyes, but then quickly opened them again in confusion. Weird. The scent of Mark's aftershave was suddenly mixed with another smell. It smelled almost as if something was…

Mark seemed to realize what it was at the very second that she did. "_Shit_!" he breathed and pulled himself away from her. She watched him hurrying towards the oven, opening it and moving back before he'd suffocate by the grayish-white smoke that came out of it. Then after a few moments of staring at the fuming oven, he took out the dish that was inside. Or what was left of it. He groaned. "Great. How are we going to explain _that_ to your parents?" he asked miserably.

"Is something burning?" Her mother's voice was heard from the living room. That did it. She burst into laughter. Mark shot her a look.

"Come on, Mark, it happens for the best," she said, her laughter slowly dying out. "I'll order some pizza."

He didn't have a chance to answer for her mother just appeared on the doorway, looking concerned. "What is going on in here?"

"A little cooking accident," she said innocently, glancing at Mark, who blushed instantly and looked away. Her mother didn't seem to notice. "You guys don't mind if we'll order pizza or something, do you?" she asked as they walked out to the living room, where her father was standing, carrying Libby on his shoulders.

"I have a better idea," he said. "We haven't yet celebrated this young lady's birthday as we should have," he tickled Libby's feet, making her giggle. "Let's go someplace nice and do that now."

Her mother nodded. "That _is_ a better idea."

She glanced at Mark. Although he still looked kind of down for his ruined dinner, going out seemed to be okay with him. She tried not to feel guilty for forgetting they didn't do anything for Libby's birthday as she promised her they would. "Alright. That sounds great. Sweetie, go get your shoes and show grandpa how you tie your shoelaces like Mark taught you the other day, okay?"

Libby nodded seriously. "Okay mommy."

Her father put Libby down and followed her down the hall again. Her mother joined them. She and Mark were alone again. Still amused by the oven incident, she walked towards Mark as he put on his coat, and helped him button it.

"What?" he grumbled without looking at her, but failed in keeping a straight face.

She smiled and laid a small kiss on his lips. "I love you," she whispered. He wrapped his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest. Sudden chill ran through her and she shivered involuntarily.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, I…" her voice trailed off as Mark tightened his embrace. She felt kind of silly for being so worried all of a sudden. And she knew she had absolutely no reason to feel that way. Everything was great. Mark was about to adopt Libby. Within two months, they'd be married. She had the most amazing wedding gown. Things couldn't possibly get better.

So why did it feel all of a sudden as if something terrible was about to ruin all that…?


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

He had to work on the morning of the Life benefit. Libby was about to leave for Jersey with Maureen's parents later that day, and he was sorry he wouldn't be able to be there when she'd go, but he said goodbye to her before he left for work. She was still in bed and kind of sleepy when he kissed her forehead and told her to have a great weekend with her grandparents. He knew that she would. They loved the little girl to death. Well, who wouldn't?

Tammy showed up half an hour after he did, bringing bagels and coffee. Since they had about an hour until the opening they sat in his office, having breakfast, and only then he realized how much he missed just hanging out with her. He hardly had time to do that anymore, and it kind of felt as if he was neglecting her, their friendship, but Tammy just shrugged it off. He hoped that after that night, he'd have more time to spend with his best friend.

They kept chatting even after the coffee was finished, the bagels were eaten, and they had to open the doors. Then a student of his walked in, so he gave him a tour, leaving Tammy near the front counter. When the phone rang some time later, he was too far from it to answer. He looked over at Tammy, who saluted to him jokingly and reached for it. He saw her saying something into the receiver and smiling. Then she looked back up.

"It's for you, Cohen!"

"Who is it?" he asked as he approached her. She just had that smug expression on, so he had a pretty clear idea about who was it on the other end. He frowned. "Thanks, Tammy. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me."

"Alrightie."

He closed his office's door and reached for the phone on his desk. "Hello?"

"Hey."

He leaned back on his chair. An upset Maureen was never a good sign. "What happened?"

"My baby is gone," she said. She sounded as if she was about to cry.

This was a side of Maureen he never thought he'd get to see. She sounded so much like… well, like a mom. He laughed softly. "She'll only be gone for two days, Maureen. She's safe, she's with your parents."

"I know… it's just…" she sighed. "I've never been away from her for more than a few hours. And it's Saturday and you're working and I'm bored," she said, her tone a bit whiny. "Any chance you'll be home earlier?"

He'd give anything to get home earlier, but unfortunately it was going to be one hell of a busy day. "I'm not sure. I should stop by at the hotel to see if the guys need anything. I might be home around 7."

"Oh," she said, sounding somewhat disappointed. There was a short pause before she spoke again. "You know what I just realized?" she asked, a hint of a smile in her voice.

"What?"

"Tonight is gonna be our first official date."

He smiled. He never thought of it that way. Their dates years before included dinners at Life, a movie when they could afford it, and it was always casual. He could never afford making reservations in a fancy restaurant, not even on their anniversary. Tonight was going to be the first time he'd see her really dressed up. He couldn't wait until he would. "Guess you're right."

"Will you dance with me?"

"As long as it's not the Tango." He missed her reply for that, though. There was a knock on the door and Tammy peered inside. "Mo, I gotta go. I'll talk to you when I'm out of here, okay?"

"Alright, have a good day."

"You too." He hung up and looked at Tammy questionably. She looked unusually serious, a bit uneasy even. "What happened?"

"Your sister is here."

"What?" Cindy, there? She was only in the gallery once, when they opened. His mother came then too, he remembered. He didn't call his sister for several weeks now, he was so busy. He kind of guessed the reason for her visit.

He got up and followed Tammy back into the gallery. There was Cindy, near the front counter, looking around at the photos that hung on the walls. She turned her head just as he entered. There was something a bit unnatural in the way she smiled. He could see that even from that distance. He pretended he didn't notice though as he approached her, and kissed her cheek. "Cindy, hey. What's up? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you. I hope it's a good time."

He looked around. It was still kind of early for the place to be packed with visitors. He glanced at Tammy, who gave him a quick reassuring nod. "Sure, now is fine. Let's go to my office," he said, guiding his sister down the hall again.

She took a seat, and he sat back on his chair in front of the desk. He eyed her curiously. She said nothing, as if she wasn't sure how to start.

"How is everyone? Dan, the boys, Natalie?" he asked casually.

"Alright. They're doing fine," she replied shortly. Then her gaze suddenly fell on something on his desk. It was a framed picture he laid there the week before. They took it the previous Sunday, when they all went to the park. He asked an old lady to take a picture of him with Maureen and Libby. In the picture he was holding Maureen that was holding Libby, that was holding her bear. The lady took five pictures, but this turned out to be his favorite, so he brought it there.

"Why are you here, Cindy?" he asked slowly. He didn't mean to sound nasty. He knew she was there because of their mother, but he also knew that Cindy would never take their mother's side without listening to his side first. And now she was there… he just wondered why.

Her gaze shifted from the photo back to him. She hesitated, but only for a moment. Her brown eyes, so much like their parents', met his. His blue eyes were ever a mystery to everyone in the family. "Next month is mom's birthday," she started carefully.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Yeah, _now_ he realized where she was going with this. Noticing his movement, she just continued speaking, as if to prevent him from protesting.

"Dan and I thought it would be nice to do a small family gathering and surprise her." Yeah, he heard of the Cohens' 'small' family gathering. Usually it ended up with dozens of aunts and uncles whom he met last on his Bar Mitzvah. "We're gonna do it at our place. I'd love it if you could come," she added quickly, as if she was afraid she'd regret it.

"No," he said simply. She had no idea how much it hurt. He didn't want to detach himself from his family. Not again, not like that. But his mother didn't leave him much choice.

Cindy shook her head. "Mark, please. Think about it. That's all I'm asking."

"I won't go there, pretending that everything is okay when it's not," he insisted.

"Look, it doesn't have to be like that. If you'll be there, she'll see you care, and maybe then you two could-"

"If she doesn't know I care by now, that's her problem."

"Maybe if she'll see Maureen and her daughter-"

"_Our_ daughter. And no. I won't do that to them. I won't give mom the opportunity to publicly shame them."

"What?" exclaimed Cindy, obviously shocked. "She'll never do that!"

He didn't feel like telling Cindy about Maureen's conversation with their mother. It was none of her business. "Look, Cindy, this is really useless-"

"Is it?" she cut him off abruptly, her tone desperate, pleading. "I don't think so. You had couple of good years, you and mom, after dad died. Do you really feel like going back to the time before that, Mark?"

"If she doesn't respect my choices, maybe I do!" He sighed. He didn't mean to yell at his sister. All his rage was aimed at his mother. Cindy had nothing to do with it. He glanced at her. She looked offended. "Look, Cindy… I appreciate the fact that you wanna help, I really do. But this is between mom and me."

"No, it's not, Mark. This is between _everyone_. Once mom comes to dinner and all she talks about is your mistakes, it's not just between the two of you. Don't you see? It became everyone's problem," she said, her eyes glistening with tears. He was shocked. Cindy was always so self-controlled. She kept her emotions to herself. This was one thing they had in common. It sounded as if it was bothering her for a while now. "Look, I'm not blaming you. I know how mom is like. But what exactly am I supposed to do when she doesn't stop talking about it? I start thinking that maybe she has a point. Maybe you _are_ making a mistake. But then I get here… and see this," she said, taking the photo from his desk. "And look at how happy you all are. How can that be a mistake?"

"Exactly," he said, gently taking the photo from her. He locked his gaze with hers. "This is what mom refuses to understand. And this is why I can't be there for her birthday, Cindy. It's not up to me anymore, I've done all I could. Please try to understand it."

"Well, you can't blame me for trying," she said, hardly looking at him, as she wiped her tears.

He hated to see his sister so upset. "Look… why don't you come over to dinner next week someday? I know it's a long drive, but I really want you to know them. They don't deserve to be judged the way mom does."

Cindy hesitated, but then smiled. "I'd love that." She took his hand and squeezed it. "Mark, I didn't come here to convince you to change your mind about this. I really didn't. It's just…" she sighed. "I just want everything to be okay between you and mom again."

He smiled sadly. "Then both of us want the same thing. But I told you, it's not up to me anymore."

"I know. I hope everything will work out."

"I hope so too," he said. He wasn't very optimistic about it, but he didn't want to upset Cindy by telling her that.

* * *

He got back home a bit after 7PM, and he knew he had very little time to get ready. A cab was supposed to be there within an hour to pick them up. The apartment was quiet when he entered and dropped his stuff on the couch. He heard a faint sound of streaming water, so he assumed Maureen was in the shower. He kicked off his shoes as he walked down the hall and into their bedroom, where the sound of water got louder, obviously coming from the adjoining bathroom. He spotted his tux laid carefully on the bed, with a small note attached to it. _Latecomers get the guest bathroom. Meet you in the living room at 7:55_. He smiled as he took his tux and other stuff he knew he'd need and left the room, slowly closing the door behind him. 

He would have given a lot for a longer shower, but he was running out of time. He shaved quickly and got dressed. Once he was ready, he went back to their bedroom, only to find the door locked. He jiggled the doorknob. "Maureen?"

"Is it 7:55?" was her reply, muffled by the door.

He glanced at his watch. 7:42. "Uh… no."

"Well, the note said 7:55, didn't it?"

What was she up to now? He shook his head. "Yeah… it did." He stared at the door cluelessly. What was he supposed to do now? Well, not that there were many available options. "Uh… I'll just wait in the living room, I guess." The sound of the hair-dryer was his only reply.

Sighing, he went back to the living room and turned the TV on, only to quickly turn it off after he didn't find anything interesting. He closed his eyes and listened to the silence. It felt weird. He wasn't used to things being so quiet around, not since Libby and Maureen moved in. If he got home when Libby was still awake, she was always around, wanting him to read for her or play with her dolls. And now she was gone… and he started to realize how lonely Maureen must have felt that morning.

He should have called the Johnsons earlier to say goodnight to her, but now it was too late. She was probably asleep. He'd have to try and remember to give her a call first thing tomorrow. He hoped that she was okay, that she was warm enough, that they were taking a good care of her-

He opened his eyes to the sound of clanging heels, and sat up. What time was it? When did he fall asleep? Damn, he hoped he didn't wrinkle his suit. Then he remembered the noise that woke him up and turned to look back. His jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he slowly stood up. Maureen stood there, in the middle of the living room, wearing a strapless black dress. It made her look taller, the way it was wrapped around her body so perfectly, ending almost at her feet. Her hair was tied back in a tight, elegant bun. The only jewelry she wore were small, diamond earrings he knew she got from her parents for some birthday. They sparkled in the dim light of the single lamp from the corner of the room.

Then he realized he was staring at her, and he tried to pull himself together. He knew she was expecting him to say something, but he was completely speechless. He opened his mouth to speak, but it felt as if he had forgotten how.

She looked at him amused and somewhat hesitant. "If you don't like it I can go back and change," she said, and he wasn't sure if she meant it. Was she kidding him? Couldn't she see how he was practically drooling all over the floor?

He slowly approached her, took her hand and brought it to his lips. "You look stunning," he said, kissing the back of her hand.

"I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends," she said playfully, strengthening an invisible wrinkle on his suit jacket.

"I'm afraid I'll be the one who'll embarrass _you_," he laughed nervously. He couldn't stop staring at her. He felt so dull comparing to her. What did he do to deserve her? "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, I'll just get my coat."

* * *

They got to the hotel just in time. Oliver was standing in the lobby, accompanied by an unfamiliar redhead, and some of their colleagues in Life. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. He didn't know Oliver was seeing someone. Just then, Oliver raised his head and their gazes met. Oliver's eyes lit up immediately. 

"I'll be damned! Mark! You're here on time!"

"I thought that under the circumstances it would be more appropriate," he laughed, guiding Maureen towards the group. "Oliver, this is Maureen Johnson, my-"

"Oh, so _you're_ the poor girl who's gonna marry him!" exclaimed Oliver, smiling widely, his arm outstretched.

Maureen laughed and shook his hand. "I'm afraid so. Nice to meet you, Oliver."

"Same here. This is Laurie, my sister," said Oliver, smiling at the redhead.

Now that he said sister, he could see the resemblance between the two of them. He smiled as he shook Laurie's hand. He introduced Maureen to the rest of the guys and then Oliver glanced at his watch and urged them all into the ballroom.

* * *

He wasn't listening attentively to Lindsey's speech, since he had already heard it that afternoon when he stopped by when the guys were in the middle of sound-check. He looked around. The ballroom wasn't enormous, just in the right size for their purposes. There were two dozen round tables around a small dance-floor, all occupied. He knew it was a good sign. Some of the guests that were invited were very influential. He hoped that the evening would do justice to the purposes of Life. 

Looking around again, he suddenly realized he was missing one particular face. Andy was nowhere to be seen. He really wanted Andy to be there. He wondered if something was wrong. He hoped that he was feeling well. Then there were loud applause when Lindsey finished her speech, and the lights dimmed and they started viewing his film. He could never stand watching his own stuff, yet he felt it would be inappropriate to just leave the room. So instead, he let his gaze wander once again.

A sigh of relief escaped him as he spotted Andy, leaning on a wall close to the doors, as if he had just walked in. He was watching the screen, where the film was still viewed, but then, as if sensing he was being watched, his gaze shifted from the screen and met his. He acknowledged him with a small wave and a smile. At least he was okay.

As the lights were turned back on and the small band took over, everyone came over to their table to compliment him on his film. At some point, Maureen left him alone with them. She had just met someone who lived next door to her and Joanne, who apparently was active in Life as well. The two disappeared among the crowd, but he still managed to catch glimpses of Maureen's black dress every now and again.

"Look at you, Mr. Popularity," said a familiar voice from behind him. He turned to see Andy standing in front of him, smiling.

He smiled, happy with the opportunity to get away from all that attention. He hated being in the spotlight. "Hey! You're late, I thought you wouldn't make it."

"Yeah, I know. Blame it on the damn New York traffic."

As they moved away from the crowd, he observed Andy more closely. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. I have my days, you know, but generally, I'm better. The film was great by the way."

"Thanks. I'm not very fond of it, but Oliver wanted the best I had. I've been told that this was it."

"Well, I enjoyed it. Strong message."

"Thank you." He felt his cheeks turn red. He never felt comfortable discussing the films he made. Photos were different; he was happy to spend ours talking with visitors in the gallery, but films? It was always his favored source of interest. Making them was like uncovering hidden parts of his soul. He felt that there was something very personal in each film, too personal to talk about it with others once it gets viewed. Thinking of how to shift the conversation as far away as possible from his films, he suddenly noticed Maureen, who was approaching him. "Oh, I'd like you to meet someone."

Andy looked at him questionably. "Who?"

"My fiancée, here she comes right now. Excuse me for a sec," he said, already halfway towards Maureen.

"There you are, I was looking all over for you," she said, smiling. She looked beautiful, radiant, in a way he had never seen her before. Like a Audrey Hepburn film, he thought, smiling. Especially with that dress. "What's up?"

"Come on, I'd like you to meet someone," he said, taking her hand.

"Who?"

"Remember that guy I told you about last week?" he said, just as they approached Andy. He was observing the stage, standing with his back to them. He tapped on his shoulder, and Andy turned to face them. "Andy, this is Maureen, she's my fiancée."

A shadow crossed the natural glimmer of Andy's eyes as they met Maureen's, but it was so quick he thought he was just imagining it. But then as he glanced at Maureen, his heart skipped a beat. She went pale. Her skin was always milky white, but now all of a sudden it seemed worse, especially with such sharp contrast with her dress. Her expression was frozen, unreadable, and although she was still smiling, it wasn't as before.

Then she seemed to have pulled herself together from whatever the hell she was going through; she looked at Andy and said, "Nice to meet you, Andy," but her tone implied otherwise. It sounded as if she was just trying to be polite. It was invisible for someone who didn't know her, she was a good actress after all, but he knew her for enough time to know when she was pretending. Besides, she wasn't like that when he introduced Oliver to her.

"You too," said Andy very quietly, not really like himself as well. He didn't even shake her hand. He looked thunder-stricken. "I… I should check if Oliver needs some help with the, uh- I'll talk to you later, Mark," he murmured and walked off.

He looked at Maureen, now a bit panicked. She didn't move, she didn't say anything. She looked as if she would faint in any second. What the hell was wrong with her? He didn't think she would handle another breakdown like the one she had in San Francisco if that was the case. He hoped it wasn't. "Maureen? Are you okay?" he asked, gently touching her hand.

Before he knew it, she pulled her hand away. Her abrupt movement shocked him. So did her eyes. They were glistening, as if with tears. "I… I don't feel very well," she whispered.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked, but she moved past him before he had a chance to take her back to their table. He followed her as she walked there on her own and sat down. "I'll get you some water, okay?" he asked, about to get up.

"No. I just… can we go back home please?" she asked, looking at him urgently.

He hesitated, but only for a second. She looked bad. This wasn't funny, this was serious. He nodded. "Sure. Of course. We can go home," he said gently. "Do you want to wait here while I find a cab?"

Again, she got up before he had a chance to move. "No, I'll go with you." This time he knew better than try and touch her. Luckily, there were many cabs waiting out of the hotel. He gave the driver their address and they took off immediately.

* * *

She said nothing all the way home. She gazed through the window, as if she was in some sort of a trance. He felt his panic rising. When did it start? And why? She was perfectly fine one moment, and then, all of a sudden… 

He locked the door behind them and slipped out of his coat. He laid it on the couch when he heard the door to their bedroom closes. He wasn't sure he wanted to go in there; he was truly anxious about what he might find there, but he knew he had to. From a reason he still couldn't figure out, Maureen was obviously distressed. And whatever it was that was bothering her, he had to be there for her.

He slowly opened the door and entered the room. Maureen was sitting in front of the mirror, still wearing her dress. She was taking hair-pins out of her hair, that was softly falling down her back now. She looked at him through the mirror as he came in, but said nothing. He stole a glance or two at her as he took off the tux and dropped it on a chair near the window. He didn't care that it'd get all wrinkled by tomorrow. He didn't care of anything at the moment. He wanted to know what was going on.

He watched her as she ran a hand through her hair absent-mindedly. It was streaming down her shoulders, not as curly as always. She probably straightened it before pulling it back earlier that evening, he figured. She looked beautiful either way. He approached her slowly, and gently laid his hand on her back. His fingers felt for the zipper at the back of her dress and he was about to pull it down for her, when she suddenly jolted out of her chair.

"Don't," she said, her back against a wall.

"I just wanted to help you."

"I can handle it," she said, disappearing in the bathroom.

He stared at the closed door for a moment. He wasn't sure what he should do. On the one hand he thought that leaving her alone wasn't smart, because something was obviously going on. On the other hand… Ugh. He approached the door and knocked lightly. "Maureen?"

He was surprised when she opened the door couple of moments later. She was wearing her nightshirt now, which was actually one of his old flannel shirts she liked. Her face was clean with makeup, her earrings gone. He looked at her intently. No tears. She wasn't crying. She looked perfectly calm, but whatever it was that made her act like that, it was still there, hidden under the mask she wore so well.

"Please tell me what's wrong," he asked. That seemed to startle her. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because he was able to read through her mask. She shook her head, looking away from him. "Maureen, please. I've never seen you like this, I need to know what happened." Still, no response. She was sitting on their bed now, so he walked over to her and knelt next to the bed, so they'd be at the same eye-level. "No more secrets, Maureen. It was _you_ who asked this, remember? Tell me what's wrong," he pleaded, his eyes fixed on hers.

She hesitated at first, but then she took a deep breathe and looked straight into his eyes. "This guy you introduced me tonight. The one with the HIV," she started, her voice a bit shaking.

"Andy?" She nodded, and he couldn't help but wonder how all that had to do with Andy. She didn't even talk to him, they were standing together for maybe two seconds. "What about him?" She didn't answer for a while. She was just sitting there, staring at nothing in particular behind him. She wasn't crying. Her face were emotionless, a perfect mask. Thousands of questions were whirling through his head. How did any of this have to do with Andy? Did he do something to her? He couldn't have, he was with them all the time. He got up. His slight movement seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and she turned to look at him as he sat next to her. "Maureen, talk to me," he asked softly.

She looked away, but quickly turned her gaze back to him again. Her tearless eyes met his. He was shocked by what he had found in her eyes. Fear. She looked terrified. But why?

Before he could question it, before he had a chance to do anything, she spoke again. Her quiet words echoed in the deathly silenced room, catching him completely off-guard. "He's my ex-husband."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm not quite satisfied with this chapter, but I really didn't want this weekend to start without an update, and with all the school tumult, this was really the best I could do. Your reviews on the previous chapter were _incredible_. Honestly. I can't thank you enough. Please keep them up. You have no idea how much it means to me, especially in those crazy weeks where my only wish is to get this semester over with. I know you share this feeling with me.**

**Warning: angst ahead. I hope you'll like it still. Have a good weekend everyone. **

**

* * *

Chapter 12 **

_There is no future, there is no past…_

The words suddenly came to life with new, terrifying meaning. Old, enchanted words, a mantra that ever since became some sort of a ghostly lullaby, whose source was long forgotten, and its words turned out to be all that mattered. But now it was all rushing back. Panic, fear, helplessness; all those things she saw happening to her loved ones, but never to her, never personally her. It felt as if the entire world was coming to an end, as if there was no hope, as if there would never be hope.

She wasn't used to be so hopeless, but what the hell was she supposed to do? How she was going to handle all that? Did she have AIDS? Did Mark? When he told her several weeks before that she might be pregnant because they weren't careful, neither of them even considered the other risks. She didn't see a reason to. Both of them were too aware of the consequences to even try and risk it all those years they lived apart. But now… Did Mark have AIDS, because she gave it to him unintentionally? A shiver ran through her as something much more terrifying occurred to her. Did Libby have AIDS…?

She was sitting on the small sofa out on the balcony. It was somewhat chilly, but she didn't care. It helped her to clear her mind. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. Silent tears were streaming down her face now, after so many hours of holding back. Mark was finally asleep. Poor Mark. He was so shaken by the whole thing. It brought even more tears to her eyes, knowing that she hurt him so much, after she swore that she'd never do that again.

He stared at her blankly for a moment until her words sank in. "W-what?" he stammered eventually, suddenly very pale.

"Andy is my ex-husband," she repeated. Every word stung. Her head was reeling. She was in a nightmare, she knew, but it felt as if she wasn't going to wake up any time soon.

"But… Oh my God, Maureen…" he murmured, slowly wrapping his arms around her. She knew he had already figured it out; just as fast as she did hours before, when her eyes first met Andy's at the Life benefit.

He was crying. She could feel the warmth of his tears against her skin of her neck, soaking through the material her nightshirt. Her heart shattered into peaces as she listened to him cry. It was quiet, as if he was trying to hide it from her, but still audible. She laid her head against his chest, her hands gently rubbing his back. For a moment it wasn't clear to her who was holding whom, who was comforting whom. The nightmare had started all over again. Only this time it wasn't about a friend or someone they knew. It was about them.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered into the chilly night air.

"Don't. You have nothing to be sorry about." She turned, startled, and saw Mark standing there, leaning against the sliding door. He was wearing his coat, and he held another coat in his hand as if he knew she'd be there. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked lightly as he came to sit next to her. If he noticed her tears, he said nothing about it. All night she tried to stay in control. It was the only thing that prevented her from falling apart right then and there at the ballroom. She couldn't do that to Mark. He had to learn the truth when they were alone. He deserved that much.

Only as he laid her coat on her shoulders, she realized she hadn't yet answered to his question. She shook her head. He wrapped his arms around her, gently rocking her as if she was a child. She turned to face him. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"First of all, we need to stay calm. Panic won't do us any good."

She looked at him incredulously. "Stay calm? Mark, we might have AIDS!" How could he even say that? Didn't he remember Collins, and Roger, and April…?

Mark shook his head. "We might. No one said that we have. Tomorrow morning we'll go to the hospital and have this thing checked. I'll call your parents and ask them to bring Libby home as soon as possible so we can have her tested as well."

Libby. God, what if her daughter, her beautiful baby girl, had… She felt her fury grow stronger. She never hated him as she did at the moment. "If he gave her AIDS, if my little girl is sick because of him, I swear to God I'll-"

"Hey, don't," said Mark, gently laying a finger against her lips. "Don't swear until you know."

She wanted to protest, but then she realized that he was right. She looked at him, his blue eyes wise and calm. She wished she could stay calm as well. Her nerves were running wild. It was such a cruel coincidence that Mark's best friend in Life was someone she hoped was out of her life for good. "Did he… you were close. Did he tell you when he got it?"

"I already thought about it. We talked about it but he never got into specific details. I assumed he didn't wanna talk about it, you know, like Roger was at the time," he said sadly. Then he looked at her carefully, and she knew right away that he was getting himself ready to tell her something he knew she wouldn't like. "If he had AIDS when he was married to you, whether he knew it or not, and if he gave it to you, you would have known."

"What makes you so sure I would?"

"Libby."

Her daughter's name brought more tears to her eyes. So did the promise she made for Mark on New Year. _I don't want her to ever get hurt_. And then she realized that Mark was wrong. Libby was just the reason Andy might have had AIDS back then when they were married. "Maybe this is just it," she said.

Mark looked at her confused. "What?"

"He didn't want me to have her. Maybe he knew something I didn't. Maybe he knew we shouldn't have her because it was too risky."

It took him a moment to take this in, but then he said, "Okay, I guess that's also a possibility, but why would he risk it in the first place? If he was HIV positive before he married you and he knew it, why hiding it from you?" Then he seemed to think of another thing. "Besides, and that was my original point, you would have known if you had it when you became pregnant. I mean they must have done blood tests and stuff, they would have told you if something was wrong."

She didn't think about that. It actually made sense, but she was too numb to really take it all in. And there were some more urgent things to think about than delve into the past. "How are we going to get Libby tested?"

"I'll think of something. Don't worry about it. Just… don't freak out, okay? We don't know anything for certain. And you're not alone, I'm not going anywhere."

His voice was so calm, soft, comforting. What did she ever do to deserve him? She laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you. For not running away screaming. I know _I _would."

"No, you wouldn't," he said, taking her hand. His hands were cold. There was a pause, and then he said, "When you first told me what he did to you, I told you that it didn't sound like you to marry someone like that in the first place. I tried to imagine him so many times, but I… and now that I know it was Andy…" he sighed. "I just don't get it. He seemed like such a great guy."

"He is, when it serves his purposes well." She raised her head to look at him. New tears were visible against the faint moonlight, but he didn't cry. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way," she said seriously.

"Maureen, I told you. There's nothing you should feel sorry for. This is not your fault. I don't want you to feel that it is. You didn't know."

"I just… can't believe it's happening to us again." She'd had enough of death, of pain, of loss. She knew Mark had had enough of it too. More than enough. They couldn't go through this again. It wasn't fair.

"We'll be okay. We've got guardian angels up there, remember? They wouldn't want us to join them so soon." He kissed her hand and smiled at her, in spite of his tears. "Come on. Let's go back inside because it's fuckin' freezing out here. We need to get some sleep."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep," she said, but let him pull her back into the apartment. She could feel the adrenaline slowly fading away, but she was still restless. And furious.

"Want me to tell you a bed-time story?" he asked, not really looking at her, as they walked down the hall back to their room.

Hmm. It sounded somewhat familiar. "I was thinking a lullaby."

His hand remained on the doorknob. He turned to look at her, somewhat confused. "Didn't we have this conversation before?"

She grinned wickedly and walked past him as he opened the door. "It's payback time, Cohen."

* * *

As they got to the hospital several hours later, her mood changed again. The panic from the night before came rushing back. It felt as if they were running out of time. A receptionist directed them to one of the doctors, and Mark explained the situation to him. A nurse in bright pink uniform took them into a quiet examination room at the far end of the ER, where the hustle of crying babies, screaming drunkards and beeping machines was hardly audible. 

As the nurse was leaving with their test-tubes, the doctor Mark was talking to before walked into the room. "Is everything alright in here?" he asked, moving towards the bed she was lying on. "Dizzy? Nausea? Anything?"

She actually felt as if she was going to throw up, but she shook her head. She just detested hospitals. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping it would stop the weakness that took hold on her.

Mark sat up. "I'd better go and call your parents," he said quietly as he stood up. She really wanted him to stay there with her. She knew what was coming next. She wasn't in the mood for a doctor's lecture. But she'd swallow it up. It wasn't about her right now. Her parents should know what was going on. Libby should get tested as well. She nodded, and Mark kissed her forehead and left.

The doctor hesitated and then came over to sit on her bedside. He glanced at her chart and scribbled something at the bottom of it. Then he raised his head to look at her. "Miss… Johnson. I'm Noah and I wanna make sure you realize what had just taken place here."

"With all due respect, doctor, I do realize," she said coldly. But then her eyes met Noah's, and they were warm and kind. It wasn't what she expected to find there. She felt herself soften. "A lot of my friends died of AIDS, so I learned the hard way."

"And still… you're here, testing for HIV." She wasn't sure if he meant it as a question or as a statement, but there was nothing accusing or malicious about it. He sounded as if he really cared. He was looking at her intently.

"Yesterday I found out that my ex-husband was HIV positive. We met at a party, after more than 5 years we didn't see each other. He ran off before I got a chance to find out how long he had it."

Noah shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that. But it's good you came here so quickly to check it out. Now, Miss Johnson-"

"-Maureen," she said. It really wasn't the time to be so damn formal.

"Maureen. Were you more tired than usual lately? Dizziness? Unexpected weakness? Loss of weight?"

"Yeah…" she said slowly. She felt as if the room was closing on her. How could she be so blind to all that when it first started at San Francisco? And now it dawned on her that she had witnessed it before, when it first started with Roger. The tiredness, the weakness, the drastic loss of weight. But when it happened to her… she just dismissed it. "I moved here almost a month ago… I had a lot on my mind because of my job… I thought it was just stress." It sounded like a lame excuse. You should have known better, she scorned herself.

"Stress it may be. I'm just going over the symptoms with you. If you were under a lot of stress because of your move here and everything, it's possible that's all it was."

"Possible, but not certain."

"In the kind of job that I do, nothing is." She couldn't argue with that. He seemed to hesitate again, but then he looked at her seriously. "Is there anyone you think of you should notify about the possibility of getting infected? Take your time, but it's important you'll remember."

"I've already done that. Just my daughter," she said quietly.

"How old is she?"

"She's five."

"He left before she was born?"

"Yes."

"Nice guy," he said sarcastically. "Where is she now?"

"She spent the night at my parents' house because of that party we went to."

"Bring her here the moment she goes back. They'll know how to reach me at the reception so don't hesitate. Day or night."

She nodded, her throat choking with tears. She remembered the last time she took Libby to the hospital. It was after she fell from a swing in the park, before her forth birthday. Her weeping still echoed in her ears. "She can't stand hospitals."

Noah smiled. "Like mother like daughter."

She returned his smile and sat up. She felt stronger. The dizziness was almost gone. "Is it that obvious?"

"After so many years in the ER, yeah, it is. Don't worry. I'm a pediatrician, she'll be okay." He took a notepad out of his white robe and scribbled something. "This is my cell and my page number in case you won't be able to reach me through the reception. You'll get the results within a week, maybe less. And I'll prescribe you some pills to help you sleep. You look like you need it."

She just stared at him, amazed. For a second, it felt as if Mark was right. They did have guardian angels.

* * *

They hardly said two words to one another as they left the hospital. After a quick breakfast at a nearby café, Mark stopped a cab and soon they were back home. She was exhausted. The last several hours of panic and restlessness were finally taking their toll. She just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. 

"Are you okay?" asked Mark as they walked into the apartment.

She shook her head. "Tired."

He looked at her concerned. "I bet you are. Come on, let's get you into bed."

"When did my mom say they'd be here?"

"Late afternoon probably. I told her it was okay if they wanted to spend the night here." He opened the door to their bedroom and waited until she'd get in. "I'll get you some water for those pills, okay?"

She nodded, kicking her shoes off. As Mark was gone, she changed back to her nightclothes. Her thoughts drifted back to the hospital. She wondered how she was going to get through that week, until they'd have the results. It seemed too long, and it hasn't even started yet. She decided to call in sick the next day, but she knew she wouldn't be able to skip work for the entire week, until they'd get the results.

Mark went back into the room just as she pulled the covers around her. He sat at the edge of the bed and handed her a glass of water. She smiled. "Thank you."

"I talked with Tammy by the way. I'm taking tomorrow off too."

She took the pills and looked at him seriously. "You don't have to do that, Mark."

"I don't want you to stay here alone and think about it all day. If I'm here, I'll be able to… I dunno, distract you or something."

She laughed softly and leaned back. "That's sweet."

"Now go to sleep," he said, caressing her cheek. "I'll be in my study."

She didn't want him to go. She didn't want to be alone. "Don't. Stay with me." He must have been exhausted too; they hardly got any sleep the night before.

He hesitated, but just for a moment. Then he nodded. "Okay. Alright, I will," he said, kissing her forehead.

She fought sleep until he got into bed as well. Then she finally let herself close her eyes as she leaned her head against his chest.

"Everything will be okay," he whispered in her ear, but she was drifting into slumber before she could respond.

* * *

She opened her eyes to face complete darkness. Where was she? What time it was? She didn't remember anything. Her mind was foggy. It felt as if she has been asleep for years. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, trying to make out her surroundings. The digital clock on the opposite side of the bed read 6:42 PM. Her forehead cringed in confusion. She was supposed to be at work, or at least on her way back. Why was she in bed at this hour? 

And then she remembered. It was Sunday. They went to the hospital in the morning. To get tested for HIV. She sighed. She couldn't believe it was happening to them.

She didn't feel like getting up. Every part of her felt heavy, sore, incredibly fragile. She wondered where Mark was. He was there when she fell asleep, she was sure of that. The sheets were rumpled on his side as if he did sleep there, but now from some reason he was gone.

The door slowly opened. The dim light of the hallway illuminated a small figure that was standing on the doorway, looking inside, as if trying to see through the darkness. Her eyes filled with new tears as she realized who the figure was. She sat up.

"Libby?"

The girl nodded and walked into the room. She seemed hesitant, scared maybe, clutching Roger the Bear closer to her. She wondered what her parents told her about having to go back home so soon.

"Come here, sweetie." She wrapped her arms around Libby as she got into bed. She pressed her forehead against the little girl's, holding her close.

"You sick, mommy?" asked Libby, looking at her concerned.

It was an innocent question, she knew. Libby had no idea about what was going on. And still, the words had their affect. She shook her head, trying to hold back her tears. "No, Munchkin. I'm okay. Just a little tired."

It seemed to calm her down. "Okay."

"Did you have fun with grandpa and grandma?" she asked, curling a strand of Libby's hair around her finger.

"Grandma has pretty dolls."

"She does, doesn't she?" She looked at her daughter intently as she laughed. Did Mark tell her about the test? Did he leave it to her to tell her because she was Libby's mother? She'd just have to ask her, she figured. "Munchkin, I have to tell you something. You're not going to like it, but you know that we don't always like things that we have to do."

Libby nodded seriously, but didn't say anything.

"Remember how couple of years ago we went to the hospital, and Dr. Edwards had to prick your finger and all? It wasn't so bad, wasn't it?" Libby shook her head slowly, carefully. "Since it's been couple of years and you're a big girl now, we'll have to do it again. So tomorrow we're gonna go to the hospital and have another doctor do the same as Dr. Edwards did, okay?"

"Do we have to go?" asked Libby, sounding somewhat scared.

She nodded sadly. She hated herself for having to do this. "Yeah, baby. We must go. It will only hurt for a second, I promise. And then, if you're really good… we can get you a doll like those grandma has. Maybe grandma will make her a beautiful dress like she makes for her own dolls. "

Libby's eyes grew big with amazement. "Really?"

"Sure. If you'll be a good girl when we get to the hospital."

"Don't like hospitals," said Libby, frowning a bit.

"I know, baby. I don't like them either. But sometimes we gotta do things we don't like."

"You be there with me?"

"Of course I will, Libby," she said, tightening her grip on her daughters. A single tear slid down her cheek before she had a chance to wipe it away, but Libby didn't seem to notice. "I'll be there."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I know, I know, I should update more frequently. Believe me, darlings, I wish I could. Too much stuff to do for school. I know you all forgive me, though, don't you, Pookies...? Another angsty chapter, let me know what you think!**

**

* * *

Chapter 13 **

He was lying awake in bed, holding her, listening to the sound of her breath, even, steady, finally peaceful. He couldn't sleep. There were too many things on his mind, bothering him, reminding him of what was going on. He tried to shake them off. He wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't let it all get to him. At least not until they'd have the results. He sighed. He couldn't believe it was happening. What were the odds? Andy, of all people, Maureen's husband? Did he give her AIDS without ever telling her? Did she give it to Libby? Would he lose them, too?

Don't, he stopped himself. Don't think about it. Yeah, it was easier to say than do. All his thoughts were drifting back in the same direction, and he couldn't do much to stop it. He looked at Maureen. Her eyes were closed, her hair falling softly on his chest. She was holding him too, almost clinging to him, in a helpless kind of way that was so unlike her. He thought back of how beautiful she was just the previous night, right before this whole nightmare had started. They didn't even have the chance to dance together, he suddenly realized and tightened his grip around her. Tears were stinging in the corners of his eyes again. God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't pretend everything was okay, because it wasn't. He didn't want to lose her, like he already lost the rest of them. Not her. Not after he got her back.

He glanced at his watch. Her parents would be there soon. He wasn't sure how he would handle them. Calling them from the hospital wasn't as simple a task as he hoped. Her mother sensed right away that something was wrong. Her father picked up the phone as well probably from the same reason. He told them what happened, where they were. Her mother cried. Her father asked some questions, but there was this unmistakable shakiness to his voice. Then her mother seemed to pull herself together and said they'd be there as soon as they could.

He thought about that other phone call he did after this one. He didn't dare telling Maureen about it. Considering how wrecked this whole thing had left her, how angry she was the night before, he thought she would be better off not knowing. He thought it was strange though, that all he got when he tried to reach Andy was his answering machine on both his cell and his home. He didn't leave a message. He knew it would be useless. Andy was clearly avoiding him. When things would calm down a little, he'd pay him a visit. He thought he had a right to learn the truth.

He sat up and gently laid Maureen on the mattress. She didn't even stir. He slipped out of bed and got dressed, then left their bedroom, closing the door after him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He wanted to call Andy again, but he didn't want to do it when Maureen was around, because he knew what her opinion would be. He had some paperwork for the gallery that had to be done, but he didn't think he could concentrate in anything at the moment. He reminded himself to give his lawyer a call as well, to say they'd have to reschedule their meeting to sign on the papers. He knew that their lives would go back to normal only after they'd get the results back. Or they might not, said an inner voice. He shook it off. Don't.

He found himself in Libby's room. Everything was small, colorful, and right where it should be, which he found surprising for a five-year-old. Her stuffed animals were on one of the lower shelves, her dolls and tea table at the far end of the room, near the window. The spot that was usually occupied by Roger the Bear, on a small chair right next to Libby's bed, was now empty. Roger went to Jersey with Libby, of course, and he suddenly found himself missing that rumpled teddy bear.

He sat on the bed and stared blankly at the apple-green wall. A familiar sight caught his eye and he smiled, picking up a doll that was sitting against the pillows. It was that ridiculous Piglet Maureen got for Libby when they met at Bloomingdales. He remembered how shocked he was when he realized that the beautiful little girl he helped only minutes before was Maureen's. He didn't remember exactly how he felt; it was a mixture of so many emotions at once. That Christmas brought one surprise after another; first meeting her again, then discovering that she was divorced and then meeting her daughter… What was it with him and Christmases? Why couldn't they ever be peaceful? And he was not even supposed to celebrate them!

A knock came at the door. He opened his eyes, sitting up. He didn't even remember lying down. He must have fallen asleep at some point. The last rays of the afternoon sun were streaming into the room, giving it a weird shade of orange. He was just sitting there for a while, a bit disoriented, until the knocking resumed. Then he realized that Maureen was still sleeping, and he hurried down the hall before the knocking would wake her as well.

Libby launched herself at him the moment he opened the door. He laughed softly as he almost toppled backwards from the sudden attack, but then he wrapped his arms around her, picked her up and held her close, drawing comfort from her presence. He looked over her shoulder to acknowledge Richard and Elizabeth Johnson, both grave-looking and older than he has ever seen them. The three of them exchanged a long, sad look before he turned his attention back to Libby, making enormous efforts to appear happy in front of her.

"Hey, beautiful. Did you have fun?"

"Yes," she nodded as he put her down and ushered them all inside.

Elizabeth was helping Libby to take off her coat. Richard was looking at the two of them, and then turned to look at him. "How is Maureen?" he asked quietly, as if to make sure it wouldn't get to Libby's ears.

"She took some sleeping pills the doctor gave her, so she's asleep."

"When will you get the results?"

"During next week, but we need to get Libby tested too. We'll take her there tomorrow morning."

Richard shook his head sorrowfully. "This is unbelievable."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is," he said sadly. He couldn't even start imagining what it all did for Richard and Elizabeth. He knew how close they were to Maureen.

"Did he talk to her, or-"

"No. He saw her and ran off. It all happened so fast."

"It must have been horrible for you," said Richard, his tone sympathetic.

"More confusing than horrible, I guess. I still don't get it."

"And she never mentioned his name to you before?"

"No, and I didn't ask. It seemed really painful for her to talk about him, so I let it go."

"Where's mommy?" asked Libby all of a sudden, approaching him again. She was holding her bear. She was looking at him, into him. Her gaze was innocent, yet unmistakably concerned, as if she somehow knew that something was wrong. He knew it was difficult to fool her, almost impossible, so he decided to stick to the truth; or to what sounded most like it.

"She's not feeling very well, Sweetie. She's asleep." He saw Elizabeth flinch and look away. Richard approached her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, as if to comfort her. He knelt beside Libby and messed with her hair a bit. "You can go in and say hi if you want."

She looked at him hopefully. "Can I?"

"Yeah. I think she'd like that. Go ahead, Sweetie." He waited until Libby disappeared down the hall before he stood up again and turned to face Elizabeth. She looked shaken and a little pale. He knew that she had never really approved Maureen's first choice of marriage. She said it was a matter of instincts. And later, when her instincts turned out to be correct, she could never forgive Andy for what he did to Maureen. But now? He could only guess what impact the new information about Andy's HIV had on her. "Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head and sat down. "No, thank you. I only need a moment." She raised her head to look at him. "How are you, Mark?"

This took him by surprise. He surely wasn't expecting her to show concern for him. And still, he took a moment to consider her question. How was he? "I'm… not sure," he said eventually.

"I was afraid of that. I told Maureen once she signed those papers. This wasn't over, I told her. He would be back. But this…" her voice trailed off as she wiped the tears that were streaming down her face now, once Libby was out of sight. His heart broke. "I'm glad you're here for her though," she said after a while. "She's lucky to have you."

"I'm the one who's lucky," he said, his throat choking with new tears.

* * *

Richard and Elizabeth didn't stay over. They spent some time with Maureen as he took Libby to bed, to give them some privacy, and then, several hours later, they left. Maureen was quiet for the rest of the evening. He made dinner and watched her as she ate, slowly and very little. She had that contemplated expression on and she still looked tired, in spite of all those hours she slept. He asked her some questions, but her answers were short, quiet, somewhat distracted, so he tried not to press her. He'd take things her way. 

He didn't know what Maureen told Libby, but she agreed to go to the hospital the next morning without protesting. Luckily, Noah was already there when they got to the ER, so he was relieved that at least they wouldn't have to stay there for long. He hated hospitals. Especially this one, where he lost most of his friends.

Libby was clinging to him, clutching his hand, obviously scared, but she said nothing. He almost admired her for being such a brave little girl, so much braver than himself. Noah guided them into a room down the hall. The walls were bright lilac-colored, and there were posters of Disney characters and cartoons all over the place. Only when Noah told Libby that she had to lie down on the examination bed she froze. She was clutching his hand even tighter and shook her head, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

Maureen stepped forward. She knelt down next to her daughter and whispered something in her ear. Her whispering was soft, transfixing, and although he couldn't make out her words, he found himself staring at her, mesmerized. He didn't know what she was saying to her, but he could feel Libby's grip slowly loosening, and before he knew it, Maureen picked her up and laid her gently on the bed.

He looked away as the nurse prepared her equipment, and Noah started explaining the procedure to Libby. He couldn't watch. Maureen was sitting next to her, holding her close. Libby only cried the second the needle pierced her skin, but only for a moment. Then Maureen started talking to her, distracting her from what Noah was doing. He was still looking away, but he could hear Maureen as she was asking questions, and Libby's soft, quiet replies.

"It wasn't so bad, wasn't it?" he asked her afterwards, as he picked her up. He was so proud of her. Maureen was signing some papers Noah gave her, but then quickly joined them.

"I think _you_ were more scared than she was," she said, a spark of mischief in her eyes. He was so relieved to detect that old, teasing tone. It felt as if everything was slowly going back to normal.

"I just hate needles," he said defensively.

"Poor Marky. Want me to ask the nurse to fetch you a lollipop too?" she asked teasingly. Then she looked at Libby, who was sucking on a red lollipop of her own. "Are you feeling okay, Baby?"

Libby nodded and smiled. Her tongue was colored bright red, exactly the color of the lollipop. "I'm okay, mommy."

Maureen looked relieved. "Good."

She looked as if she was willing to get out of there, the sooner the better. This was exactly how he felt. He took her hand. "Are _you_ okay, Baby?" he asked, making sure that the humor in his voice was notable. She'd strangle him the next time he'd call her Baby, he knew. He didn't want to risk that.

To his relief, she returned his smile, giving his hand a little squeeze. "Yeah. I'm okay."

* * *

The following week has been hectic. As if they didn't have enough on their minds already, both of them were busy over their heads with work. Yet somehow they both managed to get home early each day, to be with Libby and with one another. They didn't talk much, but somehow it wasn't necessary. As far as he was concerned, her presence alone was comforting. He just wanted to be home with her. When he saw her enter the apartment one day and smile with relief as she found him home, he knew she was feeling the same. 

The nights were sleepless. They fell asleep an hour before dawn and woke up couple of hours later, drowsy and disoriented, so by the time it was Wednesday, he was completely exhausted. Unfortunately, he couldn't head back home after closing time. He had a Life meeting that afternoon. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like going there. He hadn't had a chance to call Andy again as he planned, he was so busy. He wasn't sure how he should react when they'd meet. What should he say? Should he apologize? He had nothing to apologize for, he did nothing wrong. Should Andy apologize? And would he?

"Mark. You're here."

He raised his head to see Oliver, who was approaching him. "Hey Oliver," he said, repressing a yawn.

Oliver looked at him concerned. "I wanted to call you but I was out of town from Sunday. You disappeared so quickly on Saturday, I wanted to ask if everything's okay."

He sighed, but decided not to tell Oliver the truth about what happened. It should have been Maureen's decision whether or not to tell anyone. "Yeah. Everything's fine. Maureen wasn't feeling well so we left early."

Oliver's expression brightened as he mentioned her name. "She's great, Mark. She's beautiful, and funny, and intelligent. Why she chose you is beyond me," he joked, and then turned serious again. "You're lucky."

I know, he thought sadly. "Thanks Oliver."

As they were approaching the auditorium where the meeting was about to take place, Oliver turned to look at him again. "Say Mark, have you heard from Andy?"

His heart skipped a beat. Maybe talking with Oliver would turn out to be useful after all. "No… no I haven't. Why?"

"Because he left early on Saturday, too. Jesse was supposed to meet him yesterday, but Andy never showed up, so he went over to his place, and the landlord said that he last saw him on Sunday morning, leaving with a travel bag, but no one saw him come back, and he told no one he was planning to go someplace. I know you two were pretty close, so I thought that maybe you knew something about it," he ended, a hopeful note to his voice.

"I don't. He never said anything about leaving. I didn't know he left earlier too on Saturday." A chill ran through him. The very fact that Andy suddenly disappeared made him appeared even more guilty, as if he really had something to hide. Now he was beginning to panic.

"Mark? Is everything okay?" asked Oliver, touching his arm.

"Yeah. I'm just… tired. I didn't sleep so well and it's been a crazy day and all-"

"Why don't you go home and get some rest? You look as if you could use that."

The idea was tempting, but he felt too committed to Life to simply leave. He looked at Oliver, torn between what he wanted to do and what he should do. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. You look wrecked. Go, we'll see you next week. I'm sure everyone will understand."

He didn't hesitate. Suddenly he felt that he'd fall off his feet if he'd stay there a moment longer. "Alright. I'll go. Thanks Oliver."

"No problem. I'll be in touch tomorrow, to see how you are. And send my regards to your beautiful fiancée."

"I will. Thanks again Oliver." He turned to go, but then turned back to Oliver. "Hey, and if you'll hear from Andy… will you let me know?" Oliver looked at him, silent questions in his eyes. "I just… wanna make sure he's okay."

"Sure, I'll let you know once we're able to reach him."

If you could, he thought grimly, and turned to go.

* * *

The apartment was quiet when he stepped in. He spotted Maureen right away, asleep on the couch. Her recently purchased laptop laid open on the coffee table, along with some folders and what looked like an empty tea mug. Maureen was lying on the couch, half covered by a plaid woolen blanket. He heard muffled voices from the direction of their bedroom, so he assumed Libby was there, watching TV. He approached the couch and knelt next to it. Maureen's eyes snapped open before he had a chance to do anything else. 

"Mark… hey. What are you doing here?" she asked huskily, sitting up.

"Oliver sent me home," he said, sitting next to her. The blanket slipped to the floor as he did, and he bent to pick it up, then wrapped it around both of them. Maureen laid her head against his shoulder. "What's up with you?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be working," she said, nodding towards her laptop. "But I can't." She didn't have to say more. He could read all the rest in her eyes. She was stressed, and distracted, and too worried to do anything else. God knew, he felt exactly the same.

"I know. I hope we'll hear from Noah soon."

"Did you meet Andy?" she asked, looking straight at him.

"No. He never showed up."

"I knew it," she said quietly, looking away. Then she turned to face him again. "If you're hungry I can-" she started. He reached for her arm, stopping her.

"Don't. I'm okay."

She sighed and laid down, resting her head against his knees. She closed her eyes as he ran his hands through her hair absent-mindedly. "I'm so tired."

"I know. It'll be over soon," he promised.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him skeptically. "Will it?"

"It will. One way or another." He hoped that it would be the right way, at least.

* * *

"Cohen, is everything okay?" 

He raised his head from the paperwork on his desk to meet Tammy's concerned gaze. She was standing on his doorway, looking at him intently. "Of course. Everything's fine," he said. He wished people would stop asking him this. Thank God, it was almost the end of this nightmarish week. He hoped it wouldn't take much longer. He got to a point where he didn't even care what the results would be. The anticipation alone was killing him.

Tammy didn't buy what he hoped was his most determined tone, it seemed, for she walked into the office and closed the door. Then she sat across from him and gave him a look. "Everything is _not_ fine. You're going through something you're not telling me about. Don't you think I can tell? I know you long enough, Cohen," she said softly. It was one of those rare moments when there was not a hint of sarcasm in her voice, only pure concern. "I'm here if you wanna talk about it, okay? I thought you knew that."

"I do know that."

"Then what happened? What is it that you're not telling me? Ever since you got back to work on Monday… I don't know, it's like you're here in your body, but not with you're mind. And it's weird because I know how much this gallery means to you. But lately all you want to do from the moment we open is to get back home. I'm beginning to worry about you, Cohen," she reached over and took his hand. His eyes met hers. Their gazes locked. "Tell me what happened," she asked.

And he did. He couldn't hold it in. He had to let it out, to tell someone. Tammy remained silent as he spoke, listening intently to his story. He told her everything; about the reason Maureen got divorced in the first place, about who her husband turned out to be, about how he found out everything, almost a week ago at the Life benefit. She remained silent even after he finished his story.

"I… I'm not sure what to say," she said slowly. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Pray. That's all I find myself doing in the past couple of days."

Tammy shook her head. "God. Poor Maureen."

"Yeah. But she took it pretty well. Better than I expected."

"He looked like such a nice guy when he was here."

"I know. That's the craziest thing." Then he remembered something, and smirked. "And to think I was trying to set him up with you."

Her jaw dropped. "You _what_? Oh, you're just like your mom," she said, rolling her eyes, and he was relieved that their conversation was shifting into a lighter tone. The phone rang, and he reached for it absent-mindedly. "Hello?"

"Mark?"

"Cindy?" He didn't think he'd hear from her so soon. True, their last conversation gave him hope, but he wasn't sure if she was thinking the same as she left his gallery the previous week.

"Yeah. How are you?"

My life is falling to pieces. "Everything's okay. You?"

"You know. I was thinking… well, last week you said something about us meeting for dinner, and I thought…" her voice trailed off.

"Oh." That was all he could say. This took him completely by surprise. He thought she said she'd meet Maureen only to shake him off. Okay, so it wasn't like Cindy to say things she didn't mean to say, but still…

"Unless today is not a good time," she added hesitantly, obviously misinterpreting his long silence.

Shit. He didn't mean to give the impression he didn't want them to meet. "Oh no, no. Cindy, I didn't mean it like this, it's just… we'll have to reschedule… for next week or so. I… we have a lot of our mind right now. I'd hate to meet you just to get it over with."

"Oh. I hope everything is okay though," she half asked, half said.

"Yeah. It's just a bit crazy for us in work… and this wedding and all, you know. We'll do this next week, I promise."

"Alright. Just let me know when you can meet, okay?"

"Sure thing." His cell started ringing. "Damn. Cindy, I'll have to call you back, okay? Say hi to everyone for me."

"I will. Talk to you soon," she said and hung up.

Tammy smirked as he put the receiver back on its hook and reached for his cell. "The entire world is looking for you today, huh?

"Ha, ha," he said, rolling his eyes, and the ringing stopped as he accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Mark?" His smile faded. She only said his name, but he knew that tone. He instantly knew why she was calling.

"Mo. What's up?"

"Can you leave the gallery for a while in like half an hour?"

He glanced at Tammy, then at his watch. Yeah, he could manage that. "Yeah. I can. Where do you want me to meet you?"

"At the hospital." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Noah called. Our tests' results are back."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N- I hope you're still following the story. I'm _so_ sorry I haven't updated it in like forever. Other than the regular excuses of school and work, my muse deserted me when I needed it the most- all those readings for school killed my brain cells as well as any sense of creativity I still had left. But in a happier note, the semester is _over_! Yay! Be nice and review…?**

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Chapter 14 **

Another day, she thought grimly as she crawled out of bed. She couldn't believe it was morning already, especially since she fell asleep only two hours before. She was already familiar with this numb feeling of waking up after a sleepless night, having a long shower in a hopeless attempt to shake it off, then do the rest automatically; getting dressed, making sure Libby was up, helping her get dressed as well, making breakfast.

Libby was in a good mood, chatting endlessly about the trip to the zoo she was about to go to. She was just listing all the animals she wanted to see that day as Mark stepped into the kitchen, looking exhausted. He didn't get much sleep either, she knew. She heard him tossing and turning all night, and then at some point when she was finally drifting into slumber, he left the bed. Now their eyes locked above Libby's head, and he smiled faintly. She returned his smile and nodded towards the cup of coffee she made for him. This silent dialogue was becoming habitual. This was the only way as long as Libby was around.

They left the apartment together. She had an important meeting she had to get to, so Mark took Libby to the kindergarten instead. She stood there, in front of their building, watching them go until they disappeared around the corner of the street. Then she walked towards the subway station at the opposite direction. She tried to avoid thinking about what was really bothering her. Instead, she started thinking about Libby. If the girl sensed that something was going on, she showed no inclination of it. She was the joyous five-year-old she has always been. Both she and Mark were doing their best not to let Libby feel that something was wrong, but with Libby you could never know. She had amazing instincts, for a girl her age.

She bought herself a cup of coffee before she got to work. It hardly had any effect, like the first one she had already drunk before they left home. She felt just as drowsy. And even though it was usually her job that had the power to distract her from things that really mattered, it didn't do much help this time. She found herself staring cluelessly at her computer screen, trying to steer her mind back to the right track, without much success. She tried to work from home as well, to complete everything she couldn't finish at the office, but it was just as useless. She couldn't focus, she couldn't do anything. She knew there were rumors wandering around already, but she didn't care. She just wanted this week to be over, she just wanted to know if they were okay. If they weren't, she'd handle with it later. Right now, she just needed to know. The uncertainty was killing her just as much.

"Maureen?" She turned her attention from her computer to Julie, her new secretary, who was standing at the door, looking concerned. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just tired," she said, glancing at the clock on her computer screen. It was nearly lunch time. "What's up?"

"The mail is here and I've got the schedule for your meetings next week I wanted you to go over."

"Okay. Thanks Julie. Just leave it here, I'll do it in a bit," she said absent-mindedly.

Julie hesitated, but then stepped into her office and laid the papers on the desk. Then she gave her a questioning look. "I know I probably shouldn't say this… but you don't look so well. You should get some rest."

It all sounded too damn familiar. She was having that conversation before. And look where it had gotten you the last time, she told herself, stopping herself from dismissing Julie's concerns. She was far from fine. She had to get some sleep. "You know what, you're right. Is there anything important that I should do this afternoon?"

"No. No conferences or meetings, nothing."

An afternoon off. Well, that sounded tempting. Libby wouldn't be home until late afternoon because of that trip to the zoo, which meant that she'd have some time alone. She could ask Mark to pick her up from the kindergarten on his way back from work. Maybe she'd manage to get some sleep, too. Before she could say anything else, her cell phone started ringing. She reached for it. "Hello?"

"Maureen? It's Noah."

It felt as if her heart stopped beating, as if someone had turned off the ventilation system in the building. Suddenly there was no air. She looked up to meet Julie's concerned gaze, and shook her head, dismissing the younger woman. Once she was alone, she turned her attention back to the call. "Hi."

"I hope it's a good time. I got your results."

Her head was reeling. "And…?"

"And… I'm not allowed to discuss it over the phone," he said slowly. There was a short pause, and then he added, "Will you be able to come over to the hospital?"

Not allowed to discuss the results. His voice was neutral and awfully professional. She hoped it didn't mean what she feared it meant. She took a deep breath. "Sure. I'll get Mark and we'll be there as fast as we can."

"Alright. Ask the receptionist to page me when you're there."

"Okay. Thanks Noah."

"No problem. I'll see you soon."

She hung up, and slowly placed the cell phone on top of the folders Julie had just laid on her desk. Her heart was still pounding. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her tension. Then she reached for the phone and dialed Mark's number at the gallery. The line was occupied. She cursed softly, hanging up. Now of all times the line would be occupied for hours, she thought. Well, she didn't have hours. She had to get Mark. She picked up the receiver again and dialed his cell number. One ring, two rings, three rings, four-

"Hello?"

* * *

The words still echoed in her ears as she left the office twenty minutes later, on her way to meet Mark at the hospital. _I got your results_. If they were negative, Noah would have told her, wouldn't he? No reason to be so secretive if that was the case. Did it mean that they were positive? God, she couldn't even start imagining what their lives would turn out to be if that was to be the case. 

We can't have AIDS, she thought as she left the subway, going back to the crowded streets of the city. She wasn't sure to whom she was addressing this, but this was all she could think of. On the other hand, she knew that so far, everything pointed at the opposite scenario. Andy had disappeared without a trace, which reinforced her suspicions that he had something to hide, and Noah refused to say anything over the phone, which wasn't so encouraging either. And to top it all off, she _had_ the symptoms, which suddenly didn't seem as meaningless as before.

Mark was there already, sitting on an orange chair at the waiting-room. He stood up as he saw her enter and walked towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and they just stood there for a moment, holding each other, in the middle of the crowded waiting-room. She buried her face in his jacket and breathed his familiar scent. "Calm down. It's okay," he said quietly into her ear.

This was when she realized she was shaking. She looked up at him and nodded reassuringly. "I'm okay."

"He didn't say anything?"

"Only that he wasn't allowed to discuss the results over the phone. It didn't sound too optimistic."

"Let's find him and see what it really means." She nodded. She knew that if she'd try to speak she'd just start crying, and she didn't want that. She couldn't fall apart now. Mark squeezed her hand. "Hey," he said soothingly, "I'm scared too. But we'd better know the results, whatever they are. We'll be okay."

She knew he was terrified. She could see it in his eyes. But he didn't back away. He stayed there with her, just like he promised. She hugged him again. "I love you," she whispered, holding back tears. "And I'm sorry you have to go through this-"

Her voice trailed off as Mark pulled away, looking at her seriously. "Maureen, don't. This is not your fault." He looked over her shoulder, and something in his expression froze. She turned, her gaze following his. Her heartbeat started racing again. Noah was approaching them with a medical chart in his hands.

"Mark, Maureen, I'm glad you could come so fast," he said, his expression unreadable, neutral, just like his voice. It didn't sound encouraging. She could feel the panic rising again. Mark squeezed her hand. "If you'll follow me please, we'll find a quiet place where we can talk."

With no further words, they did as they were told. They followed him silently down the hall. She found herself clinging to Mark's side, in a way that was so unlike her. She never believed in depending on someone else. Well, at first she didn't, and then she thought it might be possible when Andy walked into her life, but then he proved her wrong as he walked out on her while she was pregnant. But the truth was that she got so tired to be the strong one. At least for now, it felt nice that there was someone to look after her, to comfort her, and above all, to know he would never walk away.

"This way," said Noah, shaking her back into reality, or something that was the closest to it. She followed him and Mark into what looked like the doctors' lounge. It all felt so surreal, as if it was a part of those hospital TV shows her father loved so much. She took a seat on a couch next to Mark as Noah sat across from them. He asked them if they wanted to drink anything, but both shook their heads simultaneously. Then there was a pause. Noah opened the folder he brought with him, then closed it, and opened it again. He looked as if he wasn't sure how to start. She knew this could not be a good sign. She bit her lower lip and forced back the tears that stung in her eyes.

"Well, as you two know, we-"

"Noah, please don't do this," she cut him off. Their time was too short to be wasted on pretty words and long explanations. "Get to the point, we just want to know," she added quietly. Noah looked slightly surprised by the interruption. Then he slowly nodded, but stayed silent, as if considering his next words. "Just tell us," she pleaded. It felt as if she was standing in front of a judge, about to listen to her verdict. Yet in a way, this was exactly what it was.

"You're negative. So is Libby."

She lowered her head, feeling the whole world collapsing unto her. Everything was swimming in front of her eyes. Her head was spinning madly. She knew it. They were doomed. Mark's hand squeezed hers, but somehow it didn't feel so comforting anymore.

Mark took a deep breath, then inhaled slowly. "Are you sure?" She heard him ask. His voice was calm, steady, as if what Noah had just said meant nothing. It felt as if they were having their conversation thousands of miles away. She could hardly make out what they were saying.

"Yeah. It's possible to do the whole procedure again just to be safe, but the results are proved to be reliable."

AIDS, oh God… What the hell they would do now? How she was going to break this to her parents? What would they tell Libby?

"Maureen?"

She raised her head to face Mark's, but his image was blurred because of the tears that were now streaming down her face, unstoppable. She couldn't fight it anymore. She laid her head on his shoulder, sobbing.

"Hey…" he murmured, instantly wrapping his arms around her. "What's this? More tears?" She couldn't answer. She cried harder. Everything she ever wanted was shattering into pieces in front of her eyes. She suddenly realized how Roger must have felt back then, after April's death, when he learned he was HIV positive.

"I'll leave you two alone," said Noah, his tone soft.

"Okay. Thank you, Noah, for everything."

"No problem. Take care."

She heard a door opens and closes again, and then silence. Mark continued to soothingly run a hand through her hair, as her sobbing gradually stopped.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, laying his chin against the top of her head.

"No. I'm not," she said honestly, looking at him again. He looked happy, relieved. How could he? Didn't he realize what it all meant?

"What was that all about? It doesn't look like tears of joy," he said gently, wiping her tears with his thumb.

"How is it that you're acting so cool about it? You were as scared as I was before we walked in here, you should be twice as scared now! Mark, didn't you hear him?"

"I did," he said, looking at her strangely. "I'm beginning to think that you didn't."

"I wish I didn't," she whispered, looking away.

His finger touched her chin, making her look back at him. He looked straight into her eyes. "Mo, he said we were negative," he said gently.

She stared at him, his words slowly sink in. "He… he did?"

Mark laughed softly. "Yeah."

Now that she thought back of it, the word did pass her ears at some point of the conversation, but she was too occupied with her own anxieties to really pay attention to it. She glanced at Mark. He didn't seem as if he was kidding. And why would he, actually, on a serious issue such as this? "And Libby?"

He nodded. "Negative. All three of us."

Then the meaning of his words sank, and relief took over. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He let out a surprised laughter and hugged her back. "Thank God," she whispered.

He held her tighter. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Yeah. Please," she said, slowly letting go. "Do you have to go back to work?"

"I told Tammy I might not come back today," he said carefully, in a way that told her that Tammy knew where he was going. She didn't care he told Tammy about it. If he acted half as strange at work that week as she did, it was Tammy's right to know what was going on.

"Can you give her a call and say not to wait on you?" she asked as they left the lounge.

"Sure, I'll call her," he said, taking her hand again. "And you? Don't you have to be back at work?"

She shook her head. "I took the afternoon off. And we'll only need to pick Libby up around 6 or so, because of that trip to the zoo."

"Right," Mark nodded, then turned to look at her, his lips curl in he probably meant to be a seductive smile. "How did you think to spend this afternoon?"

She returned his smile, feeling the rest of her tension slowly fading away. "Duh, Marky, we've got a wedding to plan!"

He threw his head back and laughed. "God, give me strength."

Noah was nowhere to be found as they went through the reception area. The receptionist himself was on the phone, so it was pointless to ask him about Noah as well. Thinking she would have time to call him later and thank him, she followed Mark out of the ER and back into the street. Now, after a week of fears, panic and what if's, it felt as if they could finally start living.

* * *

The room was dark; the moon was its only light as it was glowing soft silver, its rays falling on the bed. They were a tangle of arms and legs, entwined in one another, sweaty and out of breath. She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes. The slowing rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. Her finger drew small circles on his stomach; he shivered as it did. She smiled and did it again, her lips follow her finger, leaving goosebumps on his skin. 

"Mo?" She raised her eyes to his, looking at him questionably. "I want to ask you something."

She smiled. "I thought we had this proposal thing covered," she said, crawling a bit up until her face was just above his.

He laughed softly, caressing her cheek. "Yeah, keep reminding me," he said kind of bitterly.

She rolled her eyes jokingly. She couldn't believe he was still upset for not being the first to propose. Silly male ego, she thought. "Get over it, Mark." His expression remained serious. He looked slightly distracted, as if there was something else on his mind. Now she was getting curious. "What's wrong? Please don't tell me you have a wife and four kids someplace." She said it lightly, but suddenly she couldn't help thinking that maybe he was hiding something from her. Maybe the whole thing with Andy and the HIV tests made him reconsider… maybe he decided he'd better listen to his mother, maybe he wanted to call it all off.

He shook his head, his expression contemplated, uncertain. "No, nothing like that. I just wanna ask you something. But don't feel like I'm forcing it on you, okay? You don't have to say yes."

What could he possibly have in mind? "Mark, now I'm starting to panic. What is it?"

He hesitated, but then looked straight at her. His eyes looked remarkably blue in the moonlight. "You said that you were on a pill since you had Libby and I was just wondering… I mean I thought… that maybe you'll want to stop taking it… so that we could have a baby," he concluded, looking at her hesitantly.

She stared at him speechless for a moment, just taking it in. It caught her completely off-guard. Of course, there were times when she amused herself with the thought of having Mark's baby, but she never treated the idea too seriously. She knew he wanted to have kids someday. They never had the chance to discuss this, but it was clear he was fascinated by kids, not to mention how great he was with Libby. And yet… all those times she occupied herself with those thoughts, she never seriously considered them. Up until now.

A baby. New life. It was so strange to even consider this. Several hours ago it felt as if they were moving towards the end of their lives and now this… A baby would change everything. And there was nothing she wanted more.

Mark misinterpreted her silence it seemed, because then he suddenly said, "But like I said, you don't have to say yes unless you want to. I wouldn't want to-"

She leaned down and kissed his lips gently. "Does that answer your question?" she murmured, slowly pulling away.

He grinned mischievously and shook his head. "Umm… no, not really, can you do it again?"

There was nothing gentle about her second kiss. It was passionate, fierce, determined. She closed her eyes, deepening their kiss, as her thoughts drifted away. She could almost imagine their baby. It would be a girl. She'd have Mark's coloring and her sense of style. Otherwise, she'd be doomed to wear flannel and scarves for the rest of her life.

Then this image vanished as something occurred to her, and she pulled away and looked at Mark, frowning. "You know what it'll mean though, right? I'll be fat and ugly."

Mark smiled. "You will never be ugly no matter how hard you try."

"But I will be fat," she pointed out, then smiled. "Will you still love me when I'm fat?" she asked, pouting.

He returned her smile and captured her lips with his once more, slowly turning them over. "Does that answer your question?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It was all over the week afterwards. They met his lawyer and signed the papers, and it became official. He became Libby's father. Maureen had to go back to her office immediately afterwards, so he watched her as she hurried along the sidewalk until she disappeared among the crowd. Then he turned to the opposite direction and walked slowly to his gallery. He was so happy that everything was falling back into place. First, spring was almost there; he couldn't remember the last time he opened his eyes to face a city covered with snow and frost. The sun was up in the sky most of the time and the days were getting longer. Then their HIV tests came back negative, which was a huge relief in itself, and of course their wedding, that was only weeks away.

There was still a lot to do though. They hired a small ballroom in a hotel uptown for the reception. They were going over the guest list just the other evening for the third time. They wanted it to be a small wedding, as small as possible, so they had to include only the people that were the closest to them. He was still debating whether or not to send his mother an invitation, but Maureen pointed out just the other night that it would be worse if he wouldn't. He knew she was right. He was actually surprised that she was the one pointing this out after the way his mom treated her.

So they were going over the guest list, and one of Maureen's work colleagues was to design the invitations. Maureen got a call from the bridal shop at the beginning of the week, telling her that she could come and pick up her dress. She still had to find a dress for Libby, but she said she needed her mom to help her, so he knew he should expect another visit from the Johnsons pretty soon. He didn't mind that. He loved them. They were like substitute parental figures for him, after both his parents failed to function as such. He hoped that this time he would be able to prove his culinary skills without any… umm… distractions.

There were still couple of stuff he had to take care of. He had a meeting with a Rabbi that performed the marriage ceremonies of some of his friends. In the last wedding, the bride wasn't Jewish, but the Rabbi didn't seem to have a problem with that, and he looked pretty nice, too; a Jewish-Santa sort of man. So he decided to contact him. He told Maureen he'd take care of their rings and promised he'd get a new tux, but only after he said it, he realized the size of the trouble he got himself into. He told her he didn't need her to go shopping with him; he knew she was busy enough at work, but he also knew that he had no chance of finding something decent by himself. Unfortunately, Tammy couldn't go shopping with him because someone had to stay behind at the gallery. Of course, they could close early. Maybe that would be what he'd end up doing, he thought as he walked into the gallery.

"Why this long face, Cohen?" asked Tammy as he joined her near the counter. "I thought you'd be happy to sign those papers."

"I am. It's another thing that bugs me."

She shook her head, as if she knew what was on his mind. Knowing her, she probably did. "You should tell Maureen you want her to go with you."

He shook his head. "I can't bother her with this nonsense. She has enough to worry about."

"You won't think of it as nonsense when she'll walk down the aisle, take one look at what you'll wear and run away screaming."

He cringed. He could totally imagine this happen. "If you really wanna be supportive, Horowitz, why don't _you_ come with me?"

Tammy looked surprised. "You want _me_ to go shopping with _you_?"

"Yeah. Who knows, you might even be helpful." God, he hoped she would. It was his only hope. He looked at her seriously. No more jokes, no more teasing. "I really need your help, Tammy," he said. "Is it okay if you'll come with me this afternoon? We can close early and-"

"Sorry, I already have plans for this afternoon," she said apologetically. "I wanted to ask you if I could leave early because I'm supposed to meet my parents for dinner. But we can go tomorrow if you want," she added with a small smile.

He returned her smile. "Yeah. That'll be great. And of course you can leave early today."

"Thanks Boss," she said, turning to go. Then she seemed to change her mind, and turned to face him again. "Oh, this guy called you an hour ago," she said, taking a note out of her pocket. He took it from her, his forehead cringing.

"A guy?" he repeated, glancing at the unfamiliar number in Tammy's handwriting. There was only one name that came to mind, but he hoped it wasn't the right one. _Andy…?_

"Benny something. Asked you'd call him back."

Benny! He didn't hear from him again, not after him and Allison came over that night… before the nightmare with Andy began. He really wanted to keep in touch with Benny. He was the last remainder of the past. And the more he thought about it, it dawned on him that Benny was just the right person that could help him.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," said Benny as they made their way down the street several hours later. "You need my help-" 

"Benny, I told you four times already, _yes_, I need your help," he said, kind of impatiently. But he was actually glad to see that Benny hasn't changed a bit.

Benny smiled that heart-melting smile that made him appear so charming in everyone's eyes. "I know, just couldn't resist hearing it again. Mark Cohen needs _my_ help. What did I do to deserve this honor?"

"Will you let it go already? I'd do it myself, only I know better. I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't an emergency."

"Let's hear it then. How can I help you?"

"I need to get a tux for the wedding. I was stupid enough to tell Maureen I'd be okay finding one myself. I don't know what I was thinking."

Benny burst out laughing. "Yeah, that _was_ pretty stupid of you." He paused, as if to control his laughter, and then said, "Well, I'll do it, but only because I wanna see you married and settled already. And we both know it'll never happen if you'll pick up a tux by yourself."

Why they all keep reminding me this, he thought miserably as he followed Benny down the street. He murmured a quick 'thank you' and hurried after Benny.

Soon they got to a shop he has never been to before. Benny seemed to know it pretty well; he walked in there as if he visited there daily and everyone greeted him as they entered. He even flirted with one or two of the salespersons, but it seemed more playful than as if he really meant it. And this is where he realized that Benny _has_ changed; at least a little.

He snapped back into reality with the sound of Benny's voice. "Annette, my favorite woman," he said. Looking up, he saw a tall brunette walking towards them. She was wearing what looked like a very expensive suit in navy blue. Her make-up looked almost like a mask, concealing who-knew-how-many wrinkles. The scent of her too-strong perfume was carried heavily in the air, making his head reel, and he stopped himself from sneezing. She smiled at Benny and kissed his cheeks. "Looking fine than ever," said Benny, ever the charmer, as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Save those compliments to your wife, Benjamin," said Annette, the slightest French accent audible in the way she pronounced Benny's name. Then her eyes wandered from Benny to him, and back to Benny, who seemed to remember his existence.

"This is my friend Mark Cohen. Mark, this is Annette, she runs the store."

For a second, he was panicked. Would she expect him to kiss her hand the way Benny just did? Only thinking about it made him blush; he could feel his cheeks turn slightly pink.

"Nice to meet you Mark," she smiled and shook his hand. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"Well, Mark here is getting married," said Benny, pushing him forward slightly. "I'd like to see him wears something decent on the most important day of his life." There was not a hint of cruelty or cynicism by the way he said it. He couldn't remember the last time he heard Benny speak so truthfully. He realized how much he missed that.

"You came to the right place, we'll dress him up, no problem," said Annette, smiling at him. Then she did one step back and looked at him, starting at his shoes and slowly moving upwards, in such slowness that made him feel really nervous. This was so awkward; it felt as if he was standing there naked. He was always intimidated by women like her, from a reason he could never figure out. He tried to act his age and swallow it up. He hoped Benny wouldn't notice his embarrassment and say something nasty. Then Annette seemed to finish her… umm… inspections, for she looked up at them and said, "If you'll wait in the dressing room, let me see what we have here to suit you."

They thanked her and he followed Benny to the backside of the store, where there was a huge dressing room. The last time he was in such a big room was when he went with his mom to buy a suit for his Bar Mitzvah. He looked around. There were mirrors everywhere. Ugh. His image reflected back at him from wherever he looked. He felt so out of place. Benny fit there perfectly, with his dark suit and blue dress-shirt. "She's something, isn't she?" he asked. "Heart of gold, this woman has."

Under all those make-up layers, he was sure she had. Just then he noticed that the room had smaller, private dressing-rooms, along one wall. A sigh of relief escaped him. At least he wouldn't have to take his clothes off in front of Annette's inspecting eye. Golden heart or not, she was still intimidating. "You seem to know her pretty well," he said carefully. Benny seemed to like this Annette, and he didn't want to say something that would hurt his feelings.

"Yeah, I know her for years. I first met her when Allie and I got engaged. Her dad brought me here."

"How's Allison?"

"She's good," replied Benny. There was something in his tone… he couldn't quite place it but it was definitely there. He remembered Allison's strange behavior when she was at their place. Later that night, Maureen said she felt it too. He wondered what that was all about, but he didn't dare asking.

Annette interrupted their conversation as she entered, her arms loaded with hangers. "Here. This should do it. Unfortunately I have some more clients outside so I can't stay. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks Annette," said Benny, taking the hangers from her. There were at half a dozen different suits. He never thought there were so many possibilities to design a tux. God, it's gonna be a _long_ afternoon, he thought grimly. His eyes met Benny, and he knew that the same thought crossed Benny's mind as well.

* * *

Two hours and twenty suits later, they were out of there. They decided to go with a traditional outfit, after trying too many untraditional ones, including a white one that made him look like a ghost, according to Benny. He tried on three suits as well, and although he kind of liked them better, Benny thought they'd be too casual for a wedding. His new tux was carefully wrapped in a dark sack-like bag, and he carried it over his shoulder as they walked down the street. It's been a long afternoon already, so he thought he'd shop for their rings the next day or something. Benny suggested they'd go someplace for a drink and he hesitated, but only for a moment. Maureen would understand. Besides, he wouldn't have to stay long. 

"I can't believe you're gonna marry her," said Benny once a redhead waitress gave them their drinks and vanished.

He smiled. "I know. I find it hard to believe too sometimes."

Benny laughed and sipped his beer. Then he looked at him kind of hesitantly and asked slowly, "What's with the kid?"

"Libby?"

Benny nodded. "I know it's none of my business," he said, looking serious. "I know it's up to Maureen to decide if she wanna tell me or not. It's just… when I first saw her…" his voice trailed off, as if he wasn't sure how to go on.

"I'm sure Maureen won't mind me telling you. It's not a big secret. She was married before. She ended up raising Libby alone because they got divorced before the baby was born." He didn't tell Benny why they got divorced exactly. He felt that he had no right to do that. It was Maureen's choice. And still, it seemed as if Benny understood it all anyway.

"The bastard," he said under his breath, reaching for his beer again.

"Yeah. Something like that." Andy's image rose before his eyes, and vanished just as quickly.

"She looks like a great kid though."

"She's amazing. Oh, and she has this teddy-bear; she named him Roger."

Benny almost chocked on his drink. "You're kidding, right?" He shook his head, smiling. He remembered his own reaction when he first learned the bear's name. Benny had that goofy smile now, too. "Was it Maureen's idea?"

"She said that it wasn't."

Benny smirked. "Roger would have killed her."

"I wish he was here for it," he said sadly.

"I know."

There was a short pause; Benny stared contemplated at nothing in particular. He knew that he was thinking about Mimi's funeral, when Roger completely lost it. They hardly kept in touch ever since. Benny came to Collins' funeral, but they hardly said two words for one another, mostly because Roger was always around, giving Benny nasty looks. Then when Roger was gone, Benny didn't attend the funeral because he was out of town, but he did call to say how sorry he was, which was something he never expected him to do. In spite of everything, by the look on his face at the moment, it was clear that he still missed Roger.

The silence was beginning to get awkward, so he decided to talk about that other thing that was on his mind. He felt that he had to ask. But he wasn't sure how to do it directly, so he decided to try another way. "So, you and Allison. I'm glad it's working out after all this time." He really did. He remember how Roger and him set that bet, trying to determine how long would it take Benny to come back to his senses and leave her. And then when they all learned the truth about Mimi and him, everyone felt it was only a matter of time.

"Well, you know. We all have our ups and downs. But we're in a good point in our lives, Allie and me. It was tough getting there, but I'm glad we did."

"That's good." He sipped his drink. "She didn't seem too comfortable to be there when you were at our place," he said matter-of-factly.

Benny sighed, as if he knew it was coming. "It has nothing to do with you, guys, really. She told me later that she had a really great time. It's just… that we don't go out much anymore."

He looked at Benny questionably, but said nothing. Now he was getting curious.

Benny took a deep breath and started speaking again. "We lost a baby a couple of years ago," he said quietly. Their gazes locked. Looking straight into Benny's eyes, he could finally recognize that thing that was hidden in Allison's eyes as well. It was the worst kind of pain imaginable. "Allie got into labor way too early, I think she was in the 7th month. The baby was too small. She just couldn't breathe by herself."

A girl. No wonder Allison looked so devastated once Libby walked into the living room that evening. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly. He couldn't even start imagining how it felt. He hoped he'd never have to, either.

"That's okay. It takes time to heal, but it'll be okay," he said, smiling sadly.

He was doing all he could to shift the conversation away from that issue, away from the pain that was now clearly visible in Benny's face. He was angry at himself for acting so nosy. He shouldn't have started talking about it; it was none of his business.

They left the bar and stood on the sidewalk. He didn't realize how late it became until they stepped outside. The sunset was replaced with darkness and the City's sparkling lights and billboards.

"I'd better get going, Allison's gonna kill me."

"Tell her I'm the one to blame," he laughed. "Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it."

"No problem, Cohen," smiled Benny. "We didn't do this in a while, didn't we?"

"What, hanging out together? No, we didn't."

"We should do it again. I'll call you next week. Maybe you and Maureen can come to our place."

"Sure. That'll be great," he smiled, and then something occurred to him. Something he and Maureen didn't consider yet. He looked at Benny intently. Yeah, he could be a jerk at times, but he'd do, if he'd agree. "There's another thing I need to ask from you."

"Mark Cohen needs my help again? Must be my lucky day," he said, looking at him teasingly. "Let's hear it, boy."

"Well, I still don't have a best man, so I was wondering…"

Benny was quiet for the longest time. He looked as if he wasn't expecting this, and yet he seemed touched by the offer. When he looked back at him, smiling, there was something in his eyes he knew he would never forget. "I'll be honored to be your best man, Mark."

* * *

He was still smiling when he got home. He locked the door and laid the bag on the back of the couch. The living room was dimly lit and the apartment was quiet, except for a constant murmur coming from down the hall. Glancing at his watch, he assumed Maureen was reading Libby a bed-time story. He wished he was back earlier to do that himself. He wanted to spend their first day as father and daughter together with her, and instead he was hanging out with Benny. He hurried down the hall, feeling very guilty all of a sudden, and knocked softy on the half-closed door. The murmur stopped instantly. He pushed the door open and his two favorite girls looked up at him as he entered and sat on Libby's bed. 

"Daddy," said Libby, in a voice that indicated that she was happy to see him, but also that she was very close to fall asleep.

"Hi sweetie," he smiled, kissing her forehead. His eyes met Maureen's. She looked tired, but at ease. "What are you reading tonight?" he asked, looking at Libby again. She looked tiny under the covers, with Roger the Bear and some other stuffed animals framing her small figure, as if guarding her.

"She wanted to read Oz again. We just walked into the Emerald City, didn't we, Munchkin?" Libby hardly nodded as her head dropped on the pillows. "I guess we'll see the rest of the City tomorrow then," said Maureen, closing the book. He clicked off the lamp on Libby's bedside and tucked the blankets more tightly around her as Maureen kissed her goodnight.

As they were halfway back to the living room, Maureen took his hand and pulled him towards her. His lips met hers halfway with a lingering kiss. "Where have you been?" she murmured, slowly pulling away.

"Out shopping with Benny. I should have called, but I didn't realize how late it was."

She raised one suspicious eyebrow. "Out shopping with Benny?" she echoed.

"Yeah."

"Does he use Clinique?"

He gave her a puzzled look. "What?"

"This perfume that's all over your jacket. It's not yours, so I'm assuming it's Benny's since you said you spent the afternoon with him. I can recognize this perfume from miles, my grandma used to wear it."

For a second, he wasn't sure what she was talking about, and it suddenly dawned on him. "Oh, the perfume is not Benny's, it's this woman's-"

"What woman?" asked Maureen, taking a step back.

Was he imagining things? Was she actually… jealous? He smiled. He couldn't believe his ears. "Annette. The manager of the store we went to," he said, laughing.

"Okay," she said slowly, glancing at him carefully, as if she wasn't sure she believed him. It made him laugh even harder.

"Mo, we went shopping because I promised you I'd get a new tux," he said as they stepped into the living room. He nodded towards the back of the couch, where he laid the bag when he got home.

She looked at him and then at the bag, and walked slowly towards it. He looked at her, amused. It was so unlike her to be jealous like that. She seemed as if she was about to reach for the bag and open it. He got there a second before she did, and stopped her. She raised her head in surprise.

"It's bad luck to see it before the wedding," he pointed out.

She needed a moment to take this in, it seemed, but then a slow, beautiful smile curled on her lips and she let go of the bag. "Is that some sort of a Jewish superstition?"

He smiled. "If seeing the bride's dress before the wedding is bad luck, why not making it the other way around?"

"That's true, I guess," she said slowly.

"So how was your day?" he asked as they moved to sit on the couch. The smile instantly returned to her lips.

"Libby and I went shopping as well. We met this really nice woman."

"What woman?"

"It was kind of creepy at first," she continued, ignoring his question. "I've never seen her before in my life, and there she was, in the middle of the crowded mall, calling my name."

"How did she know your name then?" he asked, suddenly intrigued. It did sound creepy.

"Apparently, her younger brother told her my name."

"You know her brother then?" Maybe it was one of her work colleagues. Or an old friend from the Village. Everything could happen in New York.

"You can say that," she said, smiling mysteriously. "I'm gonna marry him in April."

For a moment, he was totally confused, but then it dawned on him who she was talking about. He stared at her jaw-dropped. "You met my _sister_ in the mall?"

"I thought it was unbelievable too. Especially because she's not even living around here."

"What was she doing here then?" And why didn't she call him? He had no idea Cindy would be uptown or he would have asked _her_ advice about the tux and all.

"She had this meeting uptown." Their eyes met. There was this glimmer in her eyes. "She was really nice, Mark. I was so afraid she'd be like your mom… like a younger version of her, but she proved me wrong. Completely wrong."

A sigh of relief escaped him before he could stop it. He knew that Cindy would never fall for their mother's prejudice before she'd have a chance to judge for herself, but he still had his doubts. It obviously went well, without even planning it. And Maureen looked very happy to meet her. She was chattering endlessly about it now, like an excited little girl.

"We went to this café and talked for the longest time. Poor Libby, she got so bored at some point. And Cindy told us about the kids, about the twins and Natalie and about her husband." Then she stopped, as if to catch her breath, and she looked at him hesitantly. "I invited them for dinner this Friday. Actually, Cindy invited us first, but I thought that the first time Libby meets the kids should be in a place she feels safe in, not in a strange house she doesn't know. So they'll come here instead. It's okay, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding? Of course it's okay," he said, wrapping his arms around her. He couldn't believe it was happening. And it was a relief that they didn't have to drive to Scarsdale, too. The more he'd be able to avoid facing the problem with his mom, the better.

"There's one thing though," said Maureen, looking up at him.

"What?" he asked, touching her hair.

"You'll need to help me cook. It's my first Friday dinner and I don't know what you guys-"

"It's just an ordinary dinner. There's just this prayer at the beginning of it, and wine and candles. That's all. You'll be okay," he promised.

"I don't know…" she said, still looking hesitant.

"In the worst case, we'll ask Cindy to get you into Hebrew lessons at the Scarsdale Jewish Community Center." She pouted, looking as adorable as in every time she did that. "What? I heard they teach non-Jewish brides how to cook, too!" he said defensively.

"What if this Rabbi will hate me?" she asked suddenly.

"The one I'm seeing tomorrow?" he asked. She nodded. "Then we'll find another one."

"God, Mark, this is wrong. This is so wrong," she said, sounding desperate and somewhat panicked all of a sudden. He had no idea where it came from. She was okay five minutes ago. "We can't do this. It's crazy. You need to find yourself a nice, _Jewish_ girl and marry her."

"But I don't want a nice, Jewish girl," he said softly, lacing his fingers with hers. "I want you. So stop panicking, everything is gonna be great."

"And we could still celebrate Christmas, right?" she asked slowly, as if she feared he'd say that they couldn't. Her insecurity amazed him. It was so sudden, and so unlike her.

"Of course. We'll celebrate Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and Halloween-"

"And Valentine's Day?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And Valentine's Day," he whispered, smiling, and pulled her closer for a kiss.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Libby, baby, hurry up!" she said, looking back at her daughter, who was still standing in front of a display of stuffed bears.

"Can't we get one, mommy?" Libby asked sorrowfully, but still followed her away from the children's department.

"Maybe later, baby, there are other stuff we gotta do first, okay?"

Libby nodded, but still looked sad. God, she hated when her baby was sad. She hated that look. It was so damn irresistible. She smiled and knelt next to her. "I promise we'll go back there later, alright? And if we won't have time today we'll go back here tomorrow and you can choose one. Is that better? Can I have that smile back now?" Libby's eyes lit, and she flashed her one of her most adorable toothless grins. Her heart melted. "That's better. Now come on, I thought we were going to find something for Daddy."

That was one of the reasons they ended up in that department store after she picked up Libby that afternoon. They explained the adoption procedure to Libby the night before. She wanted to clear it out anyway, no matter how little was Libby's understanding about the whole issue at her young age. Then when she came to pick her up the afternoon after the papers were signed, Libby asked if Mark was her Daddy already, and this was when they both decided they should buy him a present. Since they were already on their way uptown for shopping, it seemed like the right thing to do.

She was clutching Libby's hand. She didn't want to risk losing her again, like she did several months before. A smile curled on her lips when she remembered how it brought her to Mark again. Their wedding was only weeks away now. _Weeks_, she couldn't believe it. The invitations were ready to be sent, now that they have finally finished up with the guest list. She thought that while they were at the department store she could look for a dress for Libby, because she didn't want to bother her mom all the way from Jersey. And yet, once Libby realized where they were headed, she just stopped walking and looked at her resentfully.

"What is it, Libby?"

"Don't like dresses, mommy," said Libby, pouting.

She laughed and knelt beside her daughter. "I know, sweetie, but it's only for the wedding."

"Why can't I go like this?"

She did look cute with that overall and pink shirt, she told herself. But then she thought about her mom's reaction, and decided not to risk it. "Because it's a wedding, and we want you to look pretty."

"But Daddy says I'm _always_ pretty!" the little girl insisted.

Oh, nice job, Mark, she thought. "But you should look _prettier_. You'll do that for Daddy and me, won't you, Munchkin? We won't make you wear dresses ever again, I promise." Her gaze was locked with her daughter's. Libby was stubborn, but she seemed to have realized how important it was for her, so eventually she slowly nodded.

"Okay mommy."

She smiled. She loved this little girl to death. "That's my girl," she said, planting a soft kiss on the top of Libby's head. "Why don't we start over-"

"Maureen Johnson?"

She turned at the sound of her name, and her eyes met the blue eyes of an unfamiliar woman. She was standing there, watching her and Libby. Her forehead cringed in confusion. The woman looked as if she knew them, but she couldn't remember ever seeing her in her life. She stood up. "Yeah… I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The woman ignored her question. She looked at her without saying a word for the longest time, in a way that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. There was nothing harmful about her, it seemed. She had a pleasant smile that made her eyes shine. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. There was something familiar with the way she smiled, but she couldn't quite place it. "You _are_ Maureen Johnson, aren't you?" the woman repeated.

She slowly nodded. "Yeah, but I think you have a mistake, I'm not-"

"Oh, and you must be Libby," the stranger's smile widened.

She could feel Libby's hand back in hers again. The girl was clinging to her side, eyeing the stranger carefully, obviously frightened.

It seemed that the woman noticed that, because she shook her head and said, "Oh sweetie, I didn't mean to scare you. Either of you. It's just that I'm looking forward to meet you for quite some time, but I've never thought I'll just run into you like that." She outstretched her hand. "I'm Cindy Baum, Mark's sister."

She stared at Cindy's outstretched hand. Then she slowly shook it, still a bit uncertain. Her smile seemed honest rather than judging, so did everything she had said so far. It didn't sound like an act, but as if she _was_ looking forward to meet them. She laughed nervously. "I'm not sure what to say," she admitted. Was she under a test? Would Cindy be like their mom? Would she humiliate them in the middle of that crowded mall?

"'Nice to meet you' will be a good start," said Cindy encouragingly. She looked like Mark when she smiled, it finally dawned on her.

"I'm sorry. I guess I was just surprised to meet you here. I thought you lived at Scarsdale."

"I am. I just had a meeting here uptown and it was finished earlier than I expected…" Cindy's voice trailed off as she looked up at her. "Look, we've got a lot to talk about," she said a bit more seriously. "How about we'll go someplace for some coffee?"

"Uhh… okay," she said slowly. Now she was kind of scared. What if Cindy has already made up her mind not to accept Libby and her? What if she'd try and convince her to drop the whole wedding idea?

As if she guessed it, Cindy shook her head. "I just want to know you a bit better. Both of you. I know it's very important for my little brother that I will."

"But how did you know-"

"He has this picture of the three of you in his office. And he used to show me pictures of you when you dated back then. This is where I recognized you from," said Cindy as they went out to the crowded streets.

"Mommy, where are we going?" asked Libby all of a sudden.

She picked the girl up so that she could be at the same eye level with Cindy. "This is Daddy's sister, Munchkin," she said. "We're gonna find a place where we can talk for a while."

"Hi Libby," smiled Cindy. Her eyes met Libby's, and the girl carefully returned her smile. "I heard so much about you."

"Really?" asked Libby.

"Yeah. And Mark is right. You _are_ pretty."

Libby giggled. "See, mommy?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, _please_ don't encourage her!"

Cindy laughed. It felt so strange. As they went out to the street, they talked as if they knew each other all their lives. By the time they got to a small café nearby she knew everything she had to know about the Baums; about Cindy's husband Dan, the 15-year-old twins, about their younger sister. They sounded like a really nice family. It seemed as if Cindy was deliberately avoiding talking about her mother, but it was fine by her. She didn't want to know anything about that woman, not after their last conversation.

Their orders arrived, and she wrapped her hands around her coffee mug to keep them warm. Cindy's gaze followed her hands for a moment, and she smiled.

"You're wearing my grandmother's ring," she said softly.

"I've got you to thank. Mark said it was yours."

"Yeah, I got it when I married Dan. I was really close to my grandma so when she died…" she sighed. "Unlike my adventurous brother, I've never really left home, except for college. I didn't have this dream of independence like he had. So while he struggled with pain and loss while living at the Village with all of you guys, the first time _I_ experienced real loss was when Grandma Ida died. She died several days after giving me this ring."

"I'm not so close to my grandparents I'm afraid," she admitted, sipping her coffee. "My mom's parents are still in London, where she came from, and my dad's mom lives in a small town in Chicago. So I hardly ever see either of them."

"But you're close to your parents, aren't you? Mark said that you were."

She smiled, thinking about her mom and dad at their home in Jersey. "Yeah. I owe them my life."

"I think it's very important, to be so grateful to those who raised you," said Cindy quietly, a contemplated expression clouding her usually cheerful face. She knew what was coming next. Here we go, she though, raising her eyes to meet Cindy's. "I've already said that I'm not here to judge you, Maureen," she said seriously. "You have to believe me, I wouldn't have taken my mother's side without knowing you first. Besides, I know Mark, and he doesn't make mistakes that often. I happen to have a lot of faith in my little brother's sense of judgment." She paused for a moment as if to catch her breath, and then she continued.

"I can't change my mother's opinion. I tried, believe me, without even knowing you. But like any other Jewish mom from Scarsdale, my mom wants her son to marry a nice little Jewish girl, start a family, have a good, steady job. Problem is… that Mark is not any son. My mom refuses to face that. My dad did, too. This is why they were so disappointed when he decided to move to New York City after Brown. They wished he'd just go back to Scarsdale and follow their Jewish dream."

She was getting a bit confused as she listened to Cindy. For a second, she wasn't sure Cindy wasn't trying to convince her to call off the wedding. "Are you implying I should feel guilty that he didn't follow your parents' dream?" she asked carefully.

Cindy shook her head, as if shocked that she could even think that. "No, that's not what I meant at all. I'm saying that Mark is special. He's sort of an independent soul inside this Jewish chaos called Scarsdale. He never wanted all that for himself. But my parents never accepted it. Somehow they always found ways to compromise, that is, until Mark and our father just stopped talking after having one of their arguments. Mark decided that he had enough compromising. Then it got a bit better once our father passed away, but now, I'm sorry to say, my mother gets more stubborn as she gets older, but I can also understand Mark in going against her." Their gazes locked, and Cindy smiled. "He loves you. He loves you so much, for years. I think that the reason he has never found someone special enough to marry her was that deep inside, he was still waiting for you to come back."

There was a short pause as Cindy's words slowly sank in. Libby shifted in her seat, and only then she remembered that the little girl was sitting there, probably bored to death, while they were talking. "You okay, Munchkin?"

"I'm tired, mommy."

Cindy seemed to remember how late it became, for she glanced at her watch. "Oh my, look at the time," she laughed. "I should get going, I didn't tell Dan I'd be late." Her eyes lit all of a sudden. "You know what, you should come over to dinner this Friday, to meet the rest of the family!"

If they were as nice as Cindy was, it should be great, she thought. She was about to say she'd talk to Mark about it when her gaze shifted towards Libby again. She remembered how she first reacted when Cindy approached them. Maybe Scarsdale wouldn't be the right place to set this meeting on the first time. "Do you think that maybe you can come to our place instead?" she asked slowly, nodding towards Libby.

It looked as if Cindy understood what she wanted to say, for she nodded. "Of course. You'll speak with my little brother and I'll speak with Dan. It's gonna be great!"

She smiled. Cindy's enthusiasm was contagious. She was so cheerful. It was so different than Mark. Not that he was depressed non-stop or something, just… he kept his feelings mostly to himself.

"Your first Friday dinner," added Cindy, and then it dawned on her. The only time she was at a Friday dinner was back then, when she first met Mark's parents. And now she was the one to make this dinner? Could she even pull it off? What was she supposed to do?

Glancing at her watch, she realized she'd have to struggle with it later though. It was getting late, and Libby was getting cranky. She should be in bed soon. They signaled for the waiter to bring over their check, and after walking Cindy to her subway station, she and Libby headed back home.

* * *

The following days went by in a flash. Cindy called several times, originally intending to ask what she should cook for Friday, and somehow they always ended up having long conversations about anything but that. Mark teased her endlessly about it, but he was obviously satisfied that she and his sister got along so well.

She was still kind of scared about this dinner though. Things calmed down slightly after her small panic attack on that evening after she met Cindy. Mark met the Rabbi the day afterwards, and since he asked to see her, she went with him the following day as well. She didn't know what to expect, but he turned out to be a really nice, open-minded man. He gave her a long explanation about the Jewish wedding ceremony and other things he found necessary for her to know. Talking to him made her feel new confidence about this whole thing.

And yet, this confidence was slowly fading now, almost 20 minutes before Cindy and her family would get there. Mark took a day off to help her with the cooking, and they spent most of the morning fooling around the kitchen. Libby wasn't home, so she thought it was a golden opportunity to get Mark drunk, using the red wine they later cooked the meat in, but he wouldn't let her. She smiled as she thought about it now, hoping it would distract her from the panic that was gushing back again, but it didn't.

From somewhere in the apartment, Mark was calling her name. She was too deep in thought to answer. She tried to figure out if there was something they forgot. The table was already set, thanks to Mark and Libby, and everything was back in the stove now. That should do it. Then her thoughts were cut off abruptly as someone laid both hands on her shoulders. It came so out of nowhere, that unless she knew who it was, she might have gotten a heart attack.

"Why are you still in here?" asked Mark as he slowly massaged her shoulders.

She closed her eyes, thinking of nothing but the feeling of his hands on her shoulders, firmly but gently working their way to loosen the tight muscles there. She exhaled slowly, gradually calming down. God, she needed that. "I just wanted to make sure we had everything ready," she managed to say, although she was getting distracted quickly. She tilted her head back to allow him better access.

"Everything is ready, stop worrying," he said quietly, right into her ear. She didn't realize how close he was standing until he said it. His lips grazed the skin of her neck and replaced his hands that brushed against her sides, until they settled on her waist.

"I… don't think it's a good… idea," she murmured. She felt him smile against her neck. He didn't answer. His grip on her waist tightened as he pressed her against him, still kissing her neck. She forced herself to come back to her senses and opened her eyes reluctantly, turning to face him. He was grinning evilly at her. His cheeks were flushed slightly, and he had this naughty sparkle in his eyes. She gave him a look.

"You're thinking too much," he pointed out, and she thought it was funny. It felt as if they changed roles. He smiled as if he knew what she was thinking, and touched her cheek. "Still nervous?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Don't worry. Dan and the kids are great, they really are. You've got nothing to worry about."

Her reply was cut short as the doorbell rang. She let him open the door and stayed behind to check on everything one last time. She listened to their voices, loud, cheerful, all speaking at the same time. She wiped her hands with a small towel and slowly left the kitchen to join them. Mark was just introducing Libby to the kids. She stopped on her tracks and watched her little girl. She looked a bit hesitant, but she seemed to trust Mark, who was kneeling next to her and talking to her softly. The twins did the same as Mark did, and one of them said something that made Libby giggle. This calmed her down right away.

"There you are," said Mark as he saw her standing there. Libby didn't even notice as he left her alone with the twins and their sister. He walked over to her and took her hand. "She's okay, they love her," he assured her, nodding towards the kids.

Shortly afterwards Mark was pulled to his study by his sister, and she was left alone with Dan, Cindy's husband. She liked him right away. He shook her hand enthusiastically as Mark introduced her, telling her how Cindy didn't stop talking about meeting her several days ago. He was amazingly tall and extremely funny, and as Mark and Cindy disappeared from their sight, they continued their conversation without even realizing that they were gone. She liked the way he was glancing at his kids every now and again, as if to make sure they were okay. Luckily, they were all taken by Libby, even the older boys. She didn't expect them to even talk to her, but she couldn't help but smile as the kids disappeared down the hall and then dashed into the living room again, Michael carrying Libby on his back.

Dinner went over pretty well too. Cindy lit the candles and Mark was reading a short prayer from a small book Dan handed him. He looked a bit embarrassed as he cited the unfamiliar words in a singsongy way she only heard once in her life. He looked so unaccustomed to all that, whereas Dan and Cindy and the kids were probably doing this on a weekly basis. She wondered if they would now, too.

Libby was sitting across from her, looking at ease between Josh and Natalie. She looked around her, and her eyes met Cindy's. Her radiant smile said everything, and she returned it, now more certain than ever about the step she was going to take.

* * *

Weeks turned to days, and days to hours, and the hours were quickly turning into minutes. She was looking down at the city, which looked like a child's game as it always did when looking at it from over 20 stories above ground. A bit over half an hour before the wedding, she was all ready; her dress fits perfectly, her hair and make-up done, she finally had couple of minutes alone with herself in the elegant suite, where she spent the morning getting ready. She was nervous, much more nervous than she thought she'd be. The last time she has seen Mark was several hours ago, when they had a quick breakfast before her mother came to pick her up. Libby stayed behind with Mark and her father, and they were supposed to get to the hotel later.

Now, that it was almost the moment of truth, it was too late for second thoughts, too late to back away. She didn't want to have second thoughts; she didn't want to regret her choices anymore. For once she wanted to do the right thing; for herself, for Libby. She stepped away from the window and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Slowly, she stepped in front of it, taking a closer look. This is right, she told herself. You won't regret it. She smiled. She knew she wouldn't.

A knock came at the door, startling her. "Come in!"

The door opened, and Libby stormed into the room, her mother close behind her. Her smile widened. Her baby looked adorable. In spite of her endless protests about wearing a dress, she finally relented to wear it just this once. Her dress was of lavender colored satin, so bright that it was almost pearly-white. She had a matching ribbon in her hair, that was curling down her shoulders in soft ringlets. She looked like one of her mother's porcelain dolls.

Libby ran over to her and wrapped her little arms around her. She laughed and hugged her daughter back. "Hey Munchkin…" she murmured, breathing in the scent of Libby's hair. Then she looked at her dress again. "You look so pretty."

Libby giggled. "You look pretty too, mommy!"

"Will you be okay down there with grandma?"

"Yes, will be okay."

"Is your daddy okay?" she asked, thinking about Mark, who was probably a nervous wreck down there at the reception room. She could only imagine what Benny, as his best man, was going through.

"Daddy looks pretty too!" informed Libby, deadly serious.

She laughed, and decided that they were so short in time, she'd have to leave the grammatical corrections for later. She kissed Libby's cheek and looked at her seriously. "I love you. You know that, don't you baby?"

Libby nodded, in seriousness that was so unlike her young age. "I know, mommy."

"Be a good girl down there, okay? You can sit with Natalie and the boys or with Scott and Ben if they're there."

"Okay."

"Okay," she smiled. She raised her head to face her mother, who was standing close to the door, as if to give them privacy. She looked as elegant as ever, the deep shade of green of her dress nearly matches the color of her eyes. She stood up and approached her. As she moved closer, she could see the dampness around her mother's eyes. "Oh mom, please don't," she laughed, feeling herself getting all teary-eyed as well. "I'll ruin my make-up and we haven't even started yet."

Her mother laughed, and carefully wiped her tears away. "Let me look at you."

"Mom, you helped me getting ready all day," she protested, but took a step back anyway. Her skirts rustled as she did. She loved the sound it made.

Her mother looked at her for a long moment, and then walked into the room. Her veil was laid against the bedspread, and her mother reached for it and carefully placed it on her head. "You look beautiful," she said as she let the veil fall softly in front of her.

"Thanks mom."

"I'll send your father up once they are ready for you."

She nodded. Suddenly she couldn't speak. Her throat felt sore, choking with tears. Her eyes met her mother's in spite of the veil, and the older woman seemed to realize. She nodded as well and reached for Libby's hand. "Come on, Darling, we need to go back now."

"Bye mommy," said Libby as they vanished through the door.

She was alone again, standing in the middle of the empty suite. Her heart was pounding so hard so could almost hear it. The last few months were flashing in front of her eyes, making her head spin. Christmas, going back to New York, bumping into Mark after too many years, Mark meeting Libby, New Year, their first kiss, the inevitable hookup, her proposal, the new job offer, her breakdown in San Francisco, moving back to New York, meeting Andy, their HIV tests and results, adopting Libby, the wedding preparations… and now this. There she was, minutes before it would all come to an end, the inevitable end. It was always meant to be, she thought. Maybe even back then when they first met that rainy night at the pub in the Village. But they were too young and inexperienced to realize it then.

Another knock came at the door, but the door was opened before she could say anything else. She looked up to see her father at the doorway, looking handsome in his new suit. He just stood there, watching her for the longest time, before he outstretched his arms and she stepped into them as he wrapped her in a tight embrace. Words were unnecessary; they always were, in her father's case.

She followed him out of the room and he locked the door behind them. Then he took her arm in his and led her down the hall towards the elevators. A chambermaid stopped to look at them as they passed by, in that same comfortable silence between them.

The last of the guests were on their way into the room where the ceremony was about to take place. Several people stopped to look at them as they stepped out of the elevator. She could hear the small band they rented, their soft, jazzy sounds mingling well with people's constant chatter and the clang of champagne glasses. God, she would have killed to down one glass right now, she thought. Then she had no choice but stop her hopeful contemplations as the chatter stopped at once. The band stopped playing, and then the music resumed. It wasn't the Wedding Marsh, but a tune of a song Roger was working on, but never had a chance to finish when his health began to decline and he eventually passed away. Mark found the music sheets later as he was packing Roger's stuff, and it was the first tune that came to his mind when she dismissed the Wedding Marsh, that carried too many memories of her first wedding.

She listened to the slow, sweet melody she came to know so well by now. It felt nice to know that Roger was there with them, through his music. She always felt as if Collins was around, after learning the truth about the day he died. She believed that he was always there, guiding her through Libby.

She looked at her father. He released her arm and took her hand in his. "It's okay," he said softly, soothingly, as if he could sense her rising panic. His eyes looked a bit damp as well. He reached out and caressed her cheek, and all she felt like doing was tearing the stupid veil off.

"Daddy?" she asked, clutching his hand in such helplessness she never imagined she could feel. "Am I doing the right thing?"

A slow smile brightened her father's face as he gave her hand a little reassuring squeeze. "Don't you think it's a bit unfair to ask me this after I've already lost 20 dollars to your mother?"

She laughed in spite of the tears that stung her eyes, and wrapped her arms around him. He seemed to be a bit surprised by her sudden movement, but soon she felt his arms tighten around her waist, holding her close. They stood there for a moment, just holding one another, and then he slowly let go.

"We'd better walk in there. We're standing out here for so long, poor Mark will think you changed your mind."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "Not a chance."

Her father raised an eyebrow, amused, and took her arm again. "Prove me wrong, then," he said, handing her her bouquet and guiding her towards the entrance. "Let's get you married."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I'm looking at the date in which this fic was first posted, and I can hardly believe the long way this fic did. This is the last chapter. If I had doubts about doing a sequel to Only Us, they're all gone now. As always, your support and feedback were absolutely incredible, not to mention your speculations and concern for everything that I made Mark and Mo go through (author's manipulations- grins evilly). Stay tuned for the epilogue, on which I'm still working. As for the following chapter- yes, it's the wedding. I'll take this opportunity to thank Laurel Ducky for letting me know it's possible to have a mixed wedding at the US, and Fae for giving me some details about how weddings go at the States. Please keep in mind that the last time I was at a wedding was a year ago, and that I come from a culture that is probably very different than yours at the States, regarding the way weddings go. I did my best in keeping it realistic, as well as in mixing the Jewish service with elements from the Christian service based on the little I know, what I was told and what I found online, so no flames on that please. **

**That's it, you guys! It's been amazing, as always! Love you all, and stay alert for the epilogue, it should be up soon as well. And since it's the last chapter… review…?**

**Thousand sweet kisses,**

**T.M**

**

* * *

Chapter 17 **

He woke up with no particular reason. Or maybe it was the sun that started its slow ascent in the New York morning sky, its rays streaming into the room, hurting his eyelids. Whatever it was that woke him up, it was completely unwelcoming, as far as he was concerned. He was too comfortable under the warm covers, Maureen's body pressed against his, her scented hair tickling his nostrils every now and again. She was sleeping peacefully; he could tell by the sound of her breathing. He smiled as he shifted slightly to wrap one arm around her waist, holding her even closer. It was a matter of hours, a few more hours, before she'd be his wife. He felt like laughing. It was so surreal.

He nuzzled her neck, feeling her stir as he did. She murmured an incoherent protest and pressed her back closer to his chest, as if to encourage him. "Are you up?" he whispered.

"Hmm…" was her reply. He rolled his eyes. She'd sleep until noon if it was up to her. Well, it actually did sound tempting, going back to sleep, but he was too wide-awake, and way too excited, to do that right now. He felt like a little kid on his birthday. He couldn't just lay still. He had to do something, anything. He'd better check on Libby. Maybe he'd start making breakfast, too. He stretched and gently pulled away from Maureen, who suddenly rolled to her other side to face him, her greenish-brown eyes still fogged from sleep.

"Where are you going?"

He smiled and leaned back down to place a kiss on her forehead. "In case you didn't notice, it's morning."

Maureen glanced at the window, and back at him. "Is it?" she asked, yawning, and sat up.

He laughed as he put his glasses on. "Yeah. So you better get up too; your mom will come to pick you up soon."

"Oh," she said. There was a short pause, and then she gave him a questioning look. "Why?"

"Why?" he echoed, unsure whether or not she meant it. "You're not serious, aren't you?" he asked slowly, trying to figure that out himself.

Maureen stretched and leaned back against the bed-board. "I am. Why is my mom coming to pick me up?"

He looked at her strangely. She was looking at him expectedly, her expression blank, unreadable. She'd better be joking. "She's coming to take you to the hotel to get ready… for our wedding? Remember?"

The look she gave him was hollow, as if she had no idea what he was talking about. For a moment he felt completely helpless. He had no idea how he should react to this. Maybe it was all in his head and she never proposed? Maybe he had the wrong date; maybe he was still asleep, dreaming they were having this conversation; maybe-

A soft hand on his cheek put an end to his frantic assumptions. He raised his eyes to meet Maureen's. They were sparkling with old mischief. "You didn't think I was serious, didn't you?" she asked innocently, and he felt like strangling her for making him so panicked. Instead, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her closer so that they'd lay facing each other. She exclaimed, obviously caught off-guard.

"That was a wicked thing to do, Maureen Johnson," he said in a low voice which he considered his most threatening one.

Maureen didn't look the least intimidated though. "Wicked is my second name," she replied, and giggled. "You should have seen the look on your face."

"I'm glad you found it funny," he said in that same tone. Now it had the desired affect; her laughter died out at once.

"I was only kidding," she said slowly, hesitantly. He sat up and looked away from her, fighting the urge to burst out laughing. Two could play her game. And it felt kind of nice not to be the victim of it, for a change. He could feel her eyes drilling holes in his back, as if she was trying to read his mind. "Mark?" she asked, somewhat unsure.

He didn't answer. He stifled an amused smirk. _Now_ who was panicked, he thought with growing satisfaction. He tried to guess what her next move would be. He thought he knew, too. Three, two, one… There was a soft rustle as she sat up as well and moved closer to him. He could feel her breath close to his ear.

"Mark," she repeated; her uncertainty seemed to grow. "Baby, I really didn't mean it," she said softly. Her voice was quivering slightly. She sounded nervous, and definitely as if she was about to cry. It broke his heart. He only wanted to get back at her; he didn't want her to cry. He surely didn't want to start their wedding day in this note. "Ma-"

He turned to face her before she could finish uttering his name. A wide grin threatened to crack his face. "I can be wicked too," he stated simply.

She stared at him, but only for a second, before she hit him straight on his chest. "You bastard," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me again," she threatened, her tone low, her lips grazing his.

"What will you do if I will?"

She flashed him an evil grin and leaned forward to place a small kiss on his lips. "You-" kiss "Don't-" kiss "Want-" kiss "To know," she pulled away slightly, her gaze locking with his.

Somehow he knew he should take her word on that.

* * *

He started making breakfast as Maureen went to wake Libby up. Then the two of them entered the kitchen and helped him finish up. They were fooling around the kitchen, laughing and teasing one another. He couldn't stop smiling. He was feeling so damn wonderful. He wanted this feeling to last forever. 

They just sat down to eat as the doorbell rang. He went back to the kitchen to get two more plates as Maureen went over to let her parents in. There were more laughing and joking around the breakfast table, but he ate very little. Looking across from him, he saw that Maureen did, too. Then after a while Maureen and Elizabeth were gone, and Elizabeth said she'd be back later to help Libby get ready, instead of leaving her at the men's mercy. He was grateful for her for doing this. He saw Libby's dress, and he feared something would go wrong if he'd have to help her put it on. Richard seemed to be relieved as well when hearing this.

He returned Maureen's wave as she and her mother left the apartment, and smiled at the thought that the next time they'd meet, they'd be married. Or a step before that.

The rest of the morning went by painfully slow. Libby was incredibly excited and jumpy. She couldn't sit still for a moment, no matter what he and Richard did to try and calm her down. Their attempts to entertain her actually kept him well-distracted from the panic that was slowly building up in him. Then he started feeling it after getting a call from Benny, who said he was on his way. The wedding was two hours away. He was sitting at his study, staring at nothing in particular, and thinking about the way his life changed from end to end ever since Christmas.

He knew he wouldn't regret it. He would be a fool to do that. He loved Maureen for years. Maybe he never stopped loving her, no matter how hard he tried to at times, especially after she walked away so abruptly. He sighed. He was so mad at her back then, as if he believed she'd stay with them forever. He remembered what Collins asked from him on the day he died. Don't give up on her, he said. He was under the affect of so many painkillers at that point, but his words sounded incredibly coherent. But at the time, when Collins' soul joined those of their friends that night, he was so absorbed in the pain of losing another friend, that he thought he'd never be able to keep his promise, that he'd never be able to forgive her for not being there the night they lost Collins. But now, he realized that in a way, he always kept his promise. He never gave up on Maureen, not really. And he never really stopped loving her.

"Mark?" He raised his head. Richard was standing at the doorway, looking at him concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I was just…" his voice trailed off as he suddenly noticed something. Silence was back at the apartment. It sounded so strange, almost wrong. "Where's Libby?"

"Liz finally got here, I'm guessing she's washing her hair or something." They shared a smile. Girls' stuff. "Can I come in?"

"Sure. Come in." He watched Richard as he stepped in and took a seat on the couch.

"I just wanted to tell you how happy my wife and I are about how everything worked out eventually. I wish Maureen would have made this choice long ago. But then again, I guess that if she had, Libby wasn't here." He smiled. Libby brought so much joy into everyone's lives; he couldn't even start imagining his life without her. "We both are very grateful for the way you stood for them several weeks ago. I don't know a lot of people who'd do that, especially with everything you've already been through before with your friends."

"I didn't see it as an option. I love them, of course I stood for them."

Richard nodded, and then looked at him seriously. "I know it will probably be a waste of words, but take a good care of them."

"I will, sir. I promise I will." He never meant for something more than he meant for those words.

"Good," said Richard, taking something out of the inner pocket of his tweed jacket. It looked like papers of some sort. He held it out for him, speaking as he did. "This is from Liz and me. We thought that the two of you need some time away from here after everything that happened." He looked at Richard and then at the papers he passed him, and his jaw nearly dropped as he realized what they were. He looked at Richard questionably. "You're leaving for London next week. Maureen's grandparents will expect to meet you while you're there, since they couldn't make it for the wedding. Get some rest, go see a show, visit some museums, and we'll have our little princess to ourselves until you get back."

He stared at the tickets, momentarily in loss of words. For a moment, he wondered how they managed to pull it off. Didn't they have to have his passport or something? Would they be okay with Libby for a whole week? Could Maureen leave work for so long? But then he realized he shouldn't even ponder over all that right now. What he should have done was to thank his new father-in-law. "I don't know what to say."

"Just say you'll take care of them. That's all I need to know."

"I gave you my word. I won't take it back."

Richard smiled. "In that case, congratulations," he said, patting on his back. "And as Liz once told you, welcome to the family."

He didn't have a chance to response, since at that moment there was a knock on the door and Elizabeth peered inside. She was dressed differently from that morning, in a dark green dress that looked beautiful on her. She shook her head in dismay as she noticed them sitting there.

"You're not ready yet! You should get dressed, both of you, or _you'll_ have to give Maureen an explanation as for why we are so late," she said, glaring at her husband. Richard didn't even flinch. He seemed to be used to that. "Where's your best man, Mark?"

"He has just called. He's on his way."

"Alright. You go get dressed then, we don't have much time."

He really wanted to thank her for the tickets, but he realized that he'd have to do this later. In the meantime, he'd better hurry. The worst thing was showing up late to your own wedding. He had just closed the door to the bedroom as the doorbell rang. Must be Benny. Thank God, he thought as he wore his tux hastily. He really needed to see a friendly face.

He could hear steps down the hall before a knock came at the bedroom door, and a voice called, "Naked or not, here I come!"

He rolled his eyes and watched Benny as he let himself into the room. "Always have to make an entry, aren't you?"

"Why of course," said Benny grinning. He was already dressed, his tux fits perfectly. He looked great in it, as if the tux was made especially for him. Knowing Benny, this was probably the case. "Sorry I'm late, I had a late conference at work."

But he was hardly listening to Benny's apologies. His panic was rising, worse than before. He glanced at his watch. "We're gonna be late," he murmured, half to Benny, half to himself. It felt as if there were millions of things they still had to do, and so little time to do them.

"No we won't, we'll be there just on time, don't panic. Breathe, Mark, it's gonna be okay." Then he stopped and did one step back, looking at him from his shoes up, pretty much like that scary Annette did before. Then he shook his head. "Well, you look pretty good, so nothing to worry about. Except maybe your hair," he added thoughtfully.

"I don't care about my hair!" he blurted out, and immediately regretted it. Benny was only trying to help. He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. I won't mean half the things I'm gonna say to you today. I'm just nervous."

"I was worried if you weren't nervous. And that's okay. The world will come to an end when I'll start taking offences from you, Cohen. Now come on, get a grip, Maureen trusts me to make you look good for a change."

He looked at Benny incredulously. "She told you that?"

"She didn't have to," replied Benny, grinning evilly.

"Ha, ha," he said, frowning. He was too distracted to think of a witty backfire to that.

"Now come on, we don't have much time," said Benny, guiding him towards the bathroom to do something about his hair.

* * *

He shook dozens of hands, and was kissed thousands of times. At least this was how it felt. Their final guest list included 100 people, but it looked like so much more. Tammy was there, and she gave him a huge hug when they met. As if she felt his distress, she was less sarcastic than usual, and somehow managed to distract him from the panic he felt. He managed to say a few words to Oliver as well, but then had to excuse himself when he noticed his sister's arrival. Leaving Oliver standing next to Tammy, he realized too late that he has just missed a golden opportunity to introduce them, but as he looked back he saw them shaking hands. He smiled to himself and walked towards Cindy and Dan. Maureen's mom disappeared a while ago, and since she took Libby with her, he assumed that they went up to see Maureen. 

As he was talking to Cindy, the Rabbi walked into the room. He didn't even notice that he stopped in mid-sentence, watching the old man talk to Maureen's father and Benny. Only a gentle tug at his arm made him realize that. He returned his attention back to Cindy and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. You were saying…?"

Cindy returned his smile. "That's okay. It will be over soon."

"Hopefully." He wouldn't be able to handle the stress for much longer.

"I'm really happy it all worked out, Mark," she said, taking his hand. "I know you're going the right thing. I wish mom-"

He shook his head. "Cindy, please don't. Not today. I don't wanna think about it." He hated to admit it, but it did kind of bother him. Up until that day he really didn't give a damn what his mom thought, but as the moment drew closer, he realized that a part of him was still hoping for her approval. That part of him really needed her to be there, to know that she was okay with all that.

Cindy considered his request for a moment, and then nodded. "Okay. Fair enough."

From over her shoulder, he saw Elizabeth and Libby walk in. His eyes met Elizabeth's, and she smiled and guided Libby in his direction. As Libby caught sight of him she ran over to him, and he leaned down to pick her up. "Hey Munchkin. You went up to see Mommy?" Libby nodded. He smiled. "Does she look as beautiful as you do?" he asked, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Yes she does," said Elizabeth, who finally caught up with her granddaughter. Then she seemed to notice Cindy, who was still there.

"Cindy, this is Elizabeth Johnson, Maureen's mother. Elizabeth, that's Cindy, my older sister."

"I knew you two must be related," said Elizabeth warmly, shaking Cindy's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, my dear."

"You too," smiled Cindy.

He watched them talk for a while, and then returned his attention to Libby. He put her down and knelt beside her. A new smile found its way to his lips as he looked at her. She looked so adorable in that dress. Like a doll. "What do you think, Libby? I look okay?"

"Very pretty," she said seriously.

He laughed. "You know how much I love you, right?" Libby nodded. Their eyes met, and although she didn't say anything, he could feel the silent understanding between them. He smiled and pulled her into a hug.

"Mark?" He looked up at the sound of Elizabeth's voice. "I think we're ready to begin. I'll send Richard upstairs to get Maureen."

"Okay," he said, standing up. His heart was racing. Soon after Elizabeth left, Benny joined him and Cindy. So far he was sitting at a corner with Allison and their two boys.

"Are we getting started or what?" he asked, saying a quick hi to Cindy and picking up Libby. She giggled, surprised, as he swept her off her feet and into his arms. It was unbelievable. Libby was only five, and already taken under Benny's spell.

"Yeah, Maureen's dad is going up to get her," he said, feeling nervous like never before. "You've got the ring, right?"

Benny froze. He looked as if he wanted to curse, but couldn't because Libby was right there. Then he looked at him guiltily. "Uh… I think it's at my office, on my desk," he said slowly, casting down his eyes.

He went pale and stared at Benny wide-eyed. Oh, he'd better be joking. He'd _better_ be joking; although even as a joke it would be too much after Maureen's trick from that morning. He couldn't take much more of this. How wrong could this day still get? "You left the ring _where_?"

"I told you I had a late conference, it slipped out of my mind so I must have left it there." He paused, and gave him a sorrowful look. "I'm sorry, man."

"Sorry? Don't tell me you're sorry, Benny, I trusted you with this! I-" his voice trailed off as Benny smirked, and his sorrowful expression quickly shifted into a much more amused one. Then he burst into laughter, to which Cindy soon joined in.

"Relax, Cohen, it's safe in my pocket. Geez, calm down, will ya?"

He shook his head. Why they all enjoyed watching him suffer? Was it Torture Mark Day and nobody told him about it? "That's very mature. I would have said something more but there are little people around here."

"Thank God for small miracles," smiled Benny, putting Libby down.

The Rabbi approached them. "Gentlemen? Shall we start?"

* * *

He was standing there, under the traditional canopy, waiting. People were looking back at the entrance, as if they didn't want to miss the bride's entry. He listened to the constant humming that was rising from the audience and wondered if they all felt as restless as he did. The sounds of Roger's music filled the air, making him feel safer, as if protected by the soul of his best friend. Elizabeth was standing across from him, and smiled encouragingly as they caught one another's eye. He took a deep breath as he realized that this was it. The point of no return. 

Then all of a sudden the humming stopped at once, replacing with a rustling sound as they all rose from their seats. His eyes shot back to the entrance of the room, just as she was walking in, leaning against her father's arm. Soft whispers and gasps of admiration arose from everywhere in the room, accompanying their slow walking towards the canopy.

Breath-taking. If he had to use one word to describe the way she looked, that would definitely be the one. She was thousand times more beautiful than ever before. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. They were finally there. It was actually happening.

Before he knew it, she was there standing next to him. Their eyes met. She smiled, looking as nervous as he felt. Her eyes were sparkling, somehow visible through her veil. He wondered what she was thinking about. Did she like the way he was dressed? Because he suddenly felt that no matter how much time Benny and he spent at that shop that day, he could never compete with her.

The ceremony began, but he couldn't quite remember what it was all about. The Rabbi talked and talked, and cited blessing after blessing. Then he had to sip some wine and pass the cup to Elizabeth, to let Maureen sip from it as well. As the Rabbi asked for the ring he turned to Benny who took it out of his pocket and handed it to him, that smug expression still stuck to his face.

"Maureen, do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?"

"I do," she said, looking straight at him as she did. Her voice was quiet, a bit shaking even, but there was not a hint of hesitation in it.

The Rabbi turned to look at him. "Mark, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?"

He opened his mouth to answer when something at the far end of the room suddenly caught his eye. He could feel Maureen's gaze following his as he looked away. He stared at the entrance, where a familiar figure was standing. He thought he was imagining it, but then he knew that he didn't. He also knew this was all he'd see from his mother that day; that she would probably be gone before the reception. But he didn't care. Her being there meant that there was still hope. They could work it out.

He looked back at Maureen and smiled, feeling new confidence. "I do," he said, his doubts all gone. He slipped the ring on her finger, repeating the Rabbi's words as he did.

More blessings, more wine. It felt like it was going to last forever. As he looked away again, momentarily distracted, his mother was no longer standing there, but he didn't care. She _was_ there, even if it was for a moment. That was all that mattered.

He looked fearfully at the glass they placed on the floor, for him to step on. This had to be done right, he told himself nervously. Not being able to break it on the first shot was considered bad luck, Dan told him a while ago. And they had enough of that already so he had to do this right. He took a deep breath, and with a mind clear of thoughts, he stamped on the glass, closing his eyes in silent hope.

The sound of the smashing glass was mixed with other sounds, of clapping and cheering and "Mazel Tov"s that roared from everywhere in the room. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped him. He looked up at Maureen. She looked relieved as well. He saw tears in her eyes, now that the veil was no longer hiding her face from him. "You may kiss the bride," said the Rabbi, as if to remind him, his voice hardly audible because of the roaring crowd. He could feel Benny's hand on his back, pushing him forward slightly. He didn't need further encouragement. He wrapped his arms around Maureen and his lips met hers in a gentle kiss that sealed the ceremony.

She pulled away shortly afterwards, as if embarrassed to do that in front of all those people, whose roaring seemed to grow impossibly louder as they kissed. They were still holding one another as everyone else started leaving their seats, getting up on their feet towards the canopy. He touched her cheek, wiping away the remainders of her tears. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but he forgot them all. He was lost in the moment, their first moment as a husband and wife.

Maureen looked at him, and something in her eyes indicated that she wanted to tell him something. He leaned forward so he'd be able to hear her in spite of the incredible noise around them. "Love you, Pookie," she said, messing his hair a bit.

He smiled, but before he could respond to that, they were separated again as dozens of people came over to congratulate them. More hugs, and patting on his back, and kisses. He looked up above people's heads, trying to find Maureen, but she was similarly occupied, and people didn't seem willing to let neither one of them go. He finally managed to escape them as they all walked into the next room, where the reception was about to take place. He found a peaceful corner behind some fake plants, close to the elevators.

"Cohen! Get your ass over here and give me a hug!" He frowned jokingly at Tammy's demand and waited for her to approach him before he did as she asked. "Congratulations, Mark," she said softly, in a rare moment of seriousness, tears clearly visible in the corners of her eyes.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Thanks, Tammy. When I go back from London, we'll have to discuss some stuff about the gallery. I think we should make some changes so I could spend some time at home and you could have a life."

"Sure. Don't worry about it though while you're there. I'm used for getting ditched in that gallery, I'll take a good care of it while you're away."

"I think I'll feel less guilty this time," he said, smiling slyly. "I've seen you talking to Oliver before."

"Yeah, he introduced himself, since you walked away so suddenly," she said shortly, obviously not willing to give anything away.

He looked at her expectedly, waiting for her to say something anyway. "And…?"

"And… what?" she asked innocently.

He laughed. "Oh, come on, Horowitz, I _deserve_ to know!"

Tammy shrugged. "As far as I know, it wasn't _me_ you just married."

"Jealous, are you?" he asked teasingly.

"Not a bit. But my conscious is clear, I tried to warn her."

"Luckily, she didn't listen to you."

"Hmm," she smirked, giving him a look as if she knew something he didn't. "We'll see, boy."

Two arms encircled his waist all of a sudden, and he looked back in surprise. "Excuse me, have you seen my husband?" asked Maureen, smiling sweetly at him as she uttered that last word.

"I'll leave you two alone. See you inside," said Tammy smiling.

"When she throws the bouquet I want you at the front row!" he called after her. She turned to give him a nasty look before she disappeared inside the small ballroom. He smiled to himself and turned his attention back to Maureen. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "Hi."

"Hi," she echoed, straightening a wrinkle on his jacket.

"I'll risk sounding cliché, but I have to say it. You look absolutely beautiful."

She smiled, somewhat shyly. "Thank you. Is this Benny's doing, this suit and all?"

"Benny and Annette," he replied. He liked the way she screwed her face when he mentioned Annette's name. She didn't say anything about it though. She took something off her finger and looked up at him.

"I've got something for you," she said, taking his right hand. He watched her as she slipped a ring on his finger. They chose them together eventually, because he didn't want to risk buying something she wouldn't like. His own ring was a simple golden band, and she insisted on keeping it. Now he realized why. He looked back at her, his happy gaze meeting hers. "It's not official until we both wear them," she said simply.

"And now it is?"

Maureen nodded, lacing her fingers with his. "Now it is. You may kiss the bride. Again," she added, giggling.

He pulled her closer for a lingering kiss. Then he slowly pulled away, his forehead pressed against hers. They stood like that in silence for a moment. The music resumed inside the ballroom, and its sounds filled the air, even in that secluded corner they were standing at. Maybe they'd finally have a chance to have that dance he still owned her. Only this time, he knew, it wouldn't be the Tango. Oh no. This time it's gonna be a different kind of dance.

He smiled, offering her his arm. "Ready to go inside, Mrs. Cohen?" It rolled on his tongue, new and unfamiliar. God, it sounded so weird.

"Actually, I'd rather have you for myself, upstairs if it was up to me," she said, smiling seductively. "But yeah, I guess we gotta go in there," she said reluctantly, taking his arm. Then she seemed to think of something, for she looked up at him, grinning evilly. "I'm sure that if we sneak out when everyone's drunk enough, they'll hardly notice we're gone."

He burst out laughing. "Let's get them drunk then," he said, guiding her towards the entrance of the ballroom.

_I think they meant it when they said you can't buy love_

_Now I know you can rent it_

_A new lease you are, my love,_

_On life_

_All my life_

_I've longed to discover something as true as this is._

_So with a thousand sweet kisses_

_When you're cold and you're lonely_

_With a thousand sweet kisses_

_You've got one nickel only_

_With a thousand sweet kisses_

_When you're worn-out and tired_

_With a thousand sweet kisses_

_When your heart has expired…_

_Oh, lover, I'll cover you_

_Oh, lover, I'll cover you._

**Fin.**


	18. Epilogue

**A/N: well, it took me longer than I expected due to some crazy couple of days, but here it is, the very last part of one hell-of-a-writing experience. Once again, I wanna thank all of you, especially to those who follow this ever since Only Us. Thanks for not losing interest, for all your reviews and feedback and never-ending support. Love you guys. I'll be back soon, hopefully, with some new stuff, so stay tuned. Have a wonderful summer everyone. **

**Yours, TM.**

**

* * *

Epilogue**

**Halloween, a year and a half later. **

"Alright! Here we come! Close your eyes!" called Mark from somewhere down the hall. She looked up from the computer screen and stretched her arms over her head. She was working for several hours now, but it felt like so much more. She put the laptop on the coffee table and did as she was told. "Are they close?" he asked. His voice sounded closer now.

"Yep," she laughed.

There was a rustling sound, then a pause, and then Mark said, "Open your eyes."

She did. She looked up. Libby was standing in the middle of the living-room, smiling proudly. She stared at her daughter, speechless for a moment. She couldn't believe Mark managed to pull it off eventually. Since she first watched _The Wizard of Oz_ several weeks earlier, Libby insisted to dress like Dorothy for Halloween. It was already her favorite book, so it surprised neither her or Mark. After she tried to find a dress for her in several costume shops and came out with nothing, she tried to convince Libby to find a different costume, but to no avail. Then Mark volunteered to take it over himself and help her out, and she was so grateful for him because she had enough on her mind as it was. Whenever she asked him about Libby's costume he would always find a way of avoiding giving her an answer, so eventually she decided to let him do things his way. And now her daughter was standing in front of her, wearing a beautiful checkered blue and white dress that Mark found God-knew-where. She even had on red shoes. She looked so adorable.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Mark, looking as proud as Libby.

"Where on earth you did you find red shoes?" she asked, looking down at Libby's feet again. The lacquered shoes caught the light from the side lamp in a way that made them almost sparkle, nearly like the real thing.

"They were yours, actually. Your mom found them in a box at their attic so she sent them over along with the dress."

"Grandma made the dress," informed Libby.

"Yeah, I thought you might call her for it." She turned to look at Mark. He and Libby were about to go trick-and-treating with Benny and his boys, but he was dressed as usual, with black corduroy pants and a dark green turtleneck. She smiled. "Where's your costume?"

"Here," he said, putting on a cowboy's hat. It looked funny on him, kind of a weird combination with his glasses.

"Cute."

"Thanks," he said, going over to the couch. He placed a small kiss on the top of her head. "We're off, don't work too hard."

"Don't stay out too late."

"We won't."

"And save me some candies, don't let Daddy eat all of them," she told Libby, shooting Mark a warning glare. He rolled his eyes in response, and flashed her a cute grin.

Libby giggled at that. "Okay, mommy," she said, and gave her a kiss as well. Then she walked over to the side of the couch, where a small crib stood, and leaned down to look into it. "Bye Annabeth, take care of Mommy," she said softly.

Annabeth looked up at her older sister, her blue eyes extremely alert for a one-month-old baby. Her tiny fingers wrapped around Libby's finger and she let out a sound that was definitely a giggle.

Mark came over to the side of the crib as well, and took off his hat before he leaned to kiss the baby's head. "Bye baby. See you soon."

"Say bye to Daddy," she said softly, looking at her tiny daughter, who was watching them curiously, as if wondering who they were and why they were so much bigger than her. She moved her hands in a way that looked as if she was trying to wave goodbye, making the three of them laugh.

The silence was back in the apartment once Mark and Libby left, and she retrieved her laptop from the coffee table. She had a lot of work to do. In her crib, Annabeth fussed but didn't cry, as if she knew her mother was busy. The heat was on, and the living-room was quiet and cozy. The door to the porch was closed, blocking any possible noise from down the street. But in spite of all that, she couldn't concentrate. She typed a few words, but then quickly deleted them. She laid the laptop on the coffee table again and leaned back on the couch with a sigh, suddenly restless.

_It's right, that today's Halloween. It was Angel's favorite holiday. _

She opened her eyes, looking around her. Mimi's voice sounded so clear in her head, as if she was standing right there. The words echoed in the room, sad and haunting, bringing her years back, making her eyes tear. She could almost look back at the scene, that day when their family started to fall apart as they said their final goodbye to Angel. She remembered it all as if it happened only yesterday. It was the first of many days, just as painful, of losing all of them, one by one. The wounds never healed, no matter how far she attempted to go. At some point she came to realize that geographic distance meant nothing when you carried the wounds deep in your heart.

She wasn't even sure what made her think of the day Angel died all of a sudden. Probably because today _was_ Halloween. She smiled. It was her favorite holiday, too. She was a bit sorry that she couldn't go out trick-and-treating with Libby. They've never skipped the tradition while living on the West Coast, and Mark went with them the previous year, but this time she couldn't join them. She had to stay behind with Annabeth, as she was still nursing her, not to mention how much work she still had to complete.

She'd go and light a candle for Angel in church tomorrow, she decided, even if she wasn't a great believer. Maybe she'd pay the guys a visit at the cemetery as well. She and Mark visited there whenever they could, together or alone, but lately their visits became less frequent, once Annabeth was born. She smiled, leaning towards the crib, to check on her baby girl. Annabeth Tamara Cohen. The baby looked straight at her, tiny and perfect, waving her small fists this way and that. It never ceased to amaze her, how such a small, hopeless person could bring so much joy into people's lives. She remembered feeling that way when she first held Libby that night, several hours after she was born.

Forcing herself to go back to work, she typed a few more lines on her laptop, but quickly stopped, staring at the screen absent-mindedly. She forgot what she wanted to write once Mimi's words entered her mind, their presence bewitching. Her gaze shifted to her hands, frozen on the keyboard, and she smiled as she caught sight of her wedding ring. They were married for 18 months. God, she couldn't believe how far away that day seemed.

Things calmed down slightly since last April. Or actually they became crazier, but it was a different kind of crazy. It was new and wonderful. In spite of her showing up in their wedding, Mark's mother never tried to contact them afterwards. Mark refused to contact her himself, saying that it was up to her to make the next step. They met Cindy and the rest of the family quite a lot, and were in constant contact with her parents as well. Soon Libby started school, and she was making both her and Mark very proud, for she was doing really well there. Then after a while she became pregnant, and both she and Mark thought it was time to make some changes in their lives. He was already working fewer hours at the gallery, the time divided between Tammy and himself, and she decided to take some time off from work. They took it pretty well at the office, better than she expected. They were really sweet and understanding about the whole thing, and tried to make things easier for her the best they could. She left when she was 8 months pregnant, but continued working from home. Her contract said she'd have to go back once the baby was three months old, but they gave her an option to extend it if necessary. She was grateful for them for adding this to her contract. She didn't want to get a nanny for Annabeth so soon. And she liked being there for Libby when she got back home from school. The past several months were an incredible time for all of them.

A sudden outcry shook her from her silent reverie as Annabeth's quiet fuss was quickly turning into actual crying. She quickly reached for the crib, looking down at the red-faced baby. "Hey… what's wrong, sweetie?" she cooed softly, picking her up. She stood up and walked around the room for a while, rocking the baby in her arms as she did. That was an old trick her mother taught her, and it always worked on Libby before. It seemed to have worked on Annabeth as well, for her weeping gradually stopped, until it became that soft fuss again.

"That's better," she smiled at the baby, slowly sitting down. She didn't put her back in the crib. She loved holding her, for it gave her a chance to watch her more closely. She seemed to have gotten Mark's coloring. Her eyes were bluish-gray but she knew it might still change, and her hair wasn't as blonde as Mark's, but it was definitely not the dark brown of her and Libby's hair. She ran a finger along her tiny cheek, still a bit rosy as a result of her crying. Then she looked up, and her eyes caught a glimpse of the photo above the TV, the one Mark took on the day April committed suicide. It had the same affect as Mimi's words had. Everything was rushing back, small scenes of their past that swam in front of her eyes, moments of love and loss and pain and happiness and death all mixed into one hell of a lifetime experience.

She looked at Annabeth, whose eyes were wide-open. A few tears were still visible at the corners of her eyes. She was wearing a tiny pajama that Benny bought her; cows and moons printed on soft pink flannel. To carry on with the family tradition, he said, laughing. She knew that having Benny and Tammy as the baby's godparents was a wise choice. They'd be there for her whenever she and Mark, or even Libby, wouldn't, no matter from which reason. Annabeth was at the very beginning of her life, only one month and a week old, but she swore to do whatever it took to protect her. Like she said about Libby before, she didn't want her to get hurt, ever. She would do anything to protect both her daughters. Yet at the same time she knew that she couldn't always be there to look after them; she'd have to give them some space or she'd turn out to be like Mark's mother. Ugh. She shook that unwelcoming comparison away.

"You'll be whatever, _whoever_ you'll want to be," she whispered. "As long as you're healthy and happy, I'll be happy too."

And although the baby couldn't talk yet, she got a feeling as if she understood each and every word. She smiled and held her closer, her head resting against the crook of her neck. She looked as if she was ready to take a nap. Her breath was slowing down, her eyes fluttering shot. "Want me to tell you a story, baby?" she whispered, rubbing the baby's back. She wasn't much into lullabies, as she once told Mark. She left him the lullabies, and Annabeth actually seemed to like it when he sang for her, although he was awfully off-tune whenever he did. She smiled, thinking about the way that cowboy hat hung on his head. He was an amazing dad. And she knew he would be, too. She finally got what she wanted, she realized. She finally got the change she wanted. There was nothing else she could possibly want.

Well, except for having her friends still there with them, she thought sadly.

A slow smile crawled on her lips, sending the sadness away. She knew just the story she wanted to tell her baby girl.

"_Last night, I had a dream…_"


End file.
